At Different Ends
by postcardfromsomewhere
Summary: Summary: Harry Styles has been reappearing in Louis Tomlinson's dreams in a haunting, and almost cruel way. "But why?" Louis asks himself, "He's been dead for three months." Larry Stylinson. One Direction. RPF.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer:_ Okay, I've written a bit of RPF…but never for One Direction…or Larry Tomlinson. With that being said, also considering I'm new to this fandom, I tried to be as true to Harry and Louis as I could—as true as the story would allow. Also, I tried to incorporate little facts about them that I thought would work well with the story.

My point: If I'm wrong, I'm sorry, but don't yell at me if I am. Like I said, I'm new here, I'm a writer, and I just wanted to jump on the bandwagon.

So, here it is! ~Raven

* * *

><p>"This is weird." He said, finding it hard to hide the smile crawling across his lips.<p>

"And what _exactly_ do you find humorous?" The boy next to him asked, ruffling the shorter boys' dark curly hair. He loved to do this, only because his hand would drag down to the other boy's neck and let it linger there. He used it as an excuse to get a grip on the soft skin that hid behind his mass of hair.

The other boy sighed and leaned into him, their hands brushing as he moved, sending a jolt through his spine—almost like an electric current on high.

"This. Us. Our lives. _Everything_." He finally answered, staring at the pebble that was at his feet. He looked up and smiled, grabbing the pebble and holding it to his face. "It's just all so interesting."

The taller boy, watching him fiddle with the pebble, sat up straighter, his shoulder brushing up against his, "How so?"

"Well," the other boy returned, playing with the pebble in between his fingers, "Take us, for instance. If it weren't for one single competition, one single audition, we—none of this would be happening. We wouldn't be anything. It's so…_weird_ to think about, don't you think?"

"I guess. But who's to say it wasn't _supposed_ to happen?"

The curly haired boy nodded and grinned slowly, beaming at the boy he was leaning against. He leaned his head against his shoulder, his breath brushing against the other boy's neck as he spoke, "You're right." He paused to ponder his next few words, "I think that maybe this was meant to be this way."

The grueling, almost depressing tone in his voice broke the taller boys' heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat and his voice came out in less than a whisper, "You don't mean that, do you?" He gave him a hopeful look.

The other boy frowned, "I do. I _have_ to." He paused and looked into the distance, at nothing in particular, "I have to go now."

The taller boy stood up with him, gripping onto his arm tightly, "No, don't go. We've—it's hardly been a while! You…just got here. Please stay!"

The other boy laughed softly, "I have to go." He gripped both of the boy's cheeks in his hands and lifted his head up so their eyes locked. He rubbed his cheeks softly with his thumbs, "You have to let me go."

"No!" The taller boy cried, shaking him, grabbing the fabric of his shirt "No, I can't. I'm not ready. And…and why do you have to leave? Why do you always have to leave?" He looked around frantically, "You know what? No._ No_. I'm not letting you leave. You can't leave me again. You do this every time. _I'm not ready for you to go_. Isn't that enough for you to stay?"

The other boy smiled softly, "This is nothing new. You've always been tiredly stubborn. Please try and understand; I don't want to do this. But it's…part of my plan. "

He dragged a hand down his face, "This is so unfair. You always leave me. You _refuse_ to stay."

"Well that's the thing with our lives—with life in general—it's never fair, is it?"

The shorter boy smiled sadly, dropped his hands from his face, and turned away on his heel, starting to walk away from him. But he called after him, "Wait!"

He turned around, his eyes drooping with sadness. He stared at him, his brow raised in anticipation, waiting for him to speak. The tall boy sighed,

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

He sighed and nodded, walking forward towards him with his arms outstretched, inviting him in for a hug. But the other boy was quicker; he rushed towards him and gripped his face, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

He kissed him with everything he had—he touched every part of him that he could, he felt every emotion his body was able to conjure in that moment. He allowed himself to be free, to let himself do this, because he was certain the minute he opened his eyes, the boy he had always been in love with wouldn't be there.

It all ended too soon, and he opened his eyes. Green orbs met blue for a moment. And in a blink—a millisecond of time—he was gone.

Louis Tomlinson awoke suddenly, making a choking sound as he sat upright. He reached frantically for his neck, rubbing it to make sure he could still breathe. He clutched his chest suddenly, taking deep breaths to control his heart rate. This had been a recurring theme the past three months. And they always followed a terrible dream.

As realization set in, ("Okay, I'm fine. _It was just a dream_."), he flopped back on his bed again, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

He had been having these dreams for the past three months. At first, he didn't know what to do afterwards—at the time, he couldn't think of anything to do but fall back asleep and try to finish the dream, to get him to come back….

But then, after the first week, he stopped trying and instead, decided to wallow in his own self-pity.

Was it productive? Maybe not, but it _was_ progress…right?

He sat upright again, taking a look around his bedroom that sat in the left wing of his flat. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and slipped on his Toms—shoes he always kept at an arm's reach.

He stood up and walked out of his bedroom and down a long, narrow hallway. It had always been familiar to him—he lived in the flat, everything was familiar to him—but now it was a different kind of familiarity.

The walls were littered with photographs—ones he had taken himself, ones others had taken of him, ones of him and his band mates, and ones of _him_.

He looked away from the photo and looked to the floor of the hallway—shoe boxes and shopping bags were lined up across the wall, along with various items of clothing and things. Some were there because Louis was incredibly messy and, though it was an organized mess, he needed to put all of his clothes somewhere. Some of the items were there because they genuinely looked cool standing against the wall.

And some were there because Harry liked to interrupt Louis' "organized mess".

And although it bothered Louis to no end that Harry's Jack Wills sweatshirt was perched on top of his totally thrown shoe boxes, he didn't dare move it because that was where Harry had left it.

Louis remembered that day as if it were yesterday—the silly, completely wonderful memory that took place because of it…

_It was very late in the evening when Louis had arrived home from vocal lessons. He hung his keys up on the key hook as he closed the door softly behind him, making sure it didn't wake the other occupant of the flat. The singer walked through the foyer and towards his bedroom, where his array of random shopping bags and other things piled up against the wall of the hallway. _

_He began his journey to his room when something in the pile of stuff caught his attention—something out of place. He turned slowly on his heel, and his eyes immediately found a purple Jack Wills sweatshirt that he knew did not belong to him._

_And it could only have one other owner._

"_**Harry!**__" _

_Louis whipped his head to a loud BANG! that came from the bedroom down the hall. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile as a half-awake Harry stumbled sleepily out of his bedroom._

"_Wha is 't, Lou? You 'right" _

_Louis gripped Harry by the shoulders and turned him towards the sweatshirt and pointed at it. "That."_

_Harry rubbed his eyes and squinted towards the object, "That…is my sweatshirt."_

"_Very good. Now, get it out."_

_Harry frowned and wrapped an arm around Louis' waist, squeezing it gently, "Why? It's already a mess in here, isn't it? What's one more thing—?" _

"_It's just bothering me! Can't you just move it?"_

_Harry shrugged and looked into Louis' face, noticing the discomfort on it. He sighed dramatically, "Well, I always could, but who's to say I will?"_

_Louis' eyes narrowed and he squeezed Harry's shoulder, bringing him closer to him, their noses almost touching, "Come on Harry. Please?" Louis turned on his puppy dogs eyes and pouted at the shorter boy, "For me?" _

_Harry laughed softly and looked deep into Louis' eyes, causing butterflies to shoot up into the taller boy's core, "Well, Louis, how can I say no to that?"_

_Louis, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach, shrugged and raised an eyebrow, but before he could open his mouth to speak—_

"_I'm not moving it!" Harry exclaimed before Louis could get a word in, and pulled Louis into a headlock and proceeded to ruffle his hair with his hand. _

"_Argh—Harry—come on!—Ah!" Louis exclaimed before somehow tackling Harry to the ground. It was then that the twenty minute tickling match began. _

_Harry gripped Louis' sides and lightly ran his fingers over the bare skin before poking his side, causing Louis to writhe and screech in laughter._

"_Harry—haha—oh my—haha—stop!" Louis then gained control and turned them over, so he was on top of Harry and straddling his side._

"_Move. Your. Sweatshirt." Louis demanded in between heavy breaths._

_Harry giggled and shook his head and his body underneath him, "Nope!" Louis took this moment to attack Harry's sides and he shook and spazzed underneath him._

"_Lou—haha!—oh my god—hahaha!—stop!—haha!—I can't—hahahahahahaa!" _

_Louis continued to tickle Harry until he was too physically tired to continue. He rolled off of Harry and laid down beside him, letting his fingers run up and down Harry's forearm until they reached his hand, and he slowly intertwined his fingers with Harry's, letting his thumb rub over his knuckle. It was a gesture that was common between the two, but the jolt that ran through Louis' arm as their skin touched was hard for him to ignore. The two turned to look at each other, both read in the face and breathing heavily. _

"_So," Louis began, "Move your sweatshirt?"_

_Harry's eyes bore deep into Louis' and he smirked, raising an amused eyebrow, "Not happening, babe." _

_Harry then stood up and raced to his bedroom, and Louis sat in an upright position and watched him sprint down the hallway. He projected his voice to call out after him,_

"_Well, fuck you, Harry!"_

"_Gladly!" He called cheekily, winking seductively at his flat mate before shutting his bedroom door behind him._

Louis shook his head at the memory, but smiled fondly. The past three months were hard, but they were even harder when random bursts of memories tore through his brain. What's worse is that with the memories came the feelings that went with it. Feelings that you remember having, and then the feelings you get afterwards—when you realize you may never get to have that experience again with that certain person.

But, that's what Harry always did to him—he made him feel things nobody else could ever make him emotionalize.

"Fuck you, Harry." He laughed to himself as he wiped a tear from his face and tore his eyes from the sweatshirt.

He continued down the hallway until he finally reached the door at the end. He took a deep breath and turned the knob, revealing the bedroom of Harry Styles.

Louis grinned at the room, and immediately flopped onto the comfortable bed and sighed. He inhaled deeply and took in the cinnamon aroma that filled the room. _Harry_. Lying in the bed was like lying next to _Harry_. Obviously, Louis was sitting in his room, but the air in the room—he could feel Harry all around him; his soft breath, his head against his shoulder, his arm around his waist. He could physically feel everything. And it was paining Louis.

Shit, he missed him like _hell_.

He rolled onto his side and breathed in the cinnamon scent. Some people would think he was crazy for lying in an unoccupied bed—a bed that would never be slept in again.

Louis sat up and dragged himself off the bed at the thought. He walked slowly to the other side of the room and groaned, running a rapid hand through his hair.

What was he doing?

He glanced around quickly, his eyes scanning the deserted bedroom when his phone suddenly rang. His heart jumped at the sound, and he scrambled into his pockets to retrieve his phone. Once he did so, he saw it was a calendar update.

His breath caught in his throat, afraid to look at the update. He opened up the alert and his heart completely stopped at what he saw.

_**Today is Harry's Birthday! X**_

Louis couldn't feel it, but his legs had given out at the reminder and he found himself lying on the floor. He sighed and ran another hand down his face, and it was then that it dawned on him.

Today was Harry Styles' 18th birthday and he wasn't here to celebrate it.

Because it had been three long, terrible months since his funeral.


	2. Chapter One

**November 1st**

Simon Cowell rolled his eyes as he watched the two boys gallop and frolic around their new flat. The first fifteen minutes, he thought the actions of the nineteen and seventeen year old were quite simply adorable. But after 2 hours and forty five minutes of them screaming things like,

"_Look at the toilet! It's so clean!" _

and,

"_Our fridge is empty—we are going to starve!"_ Simon felt he had had enough.

"Boys!" He cried from the foyer.

Within a blink of the eye, the two boys were at his side, grinning from ear to ear, shaking their hair out of their eyes and their chests pumping with excitement. "Yes, Simon?" Louis grinned, raising his eyebrows.

Simon looked from one boy to the other and walked forward towards the kitchen, motioning for the two to follow him,

"This is your new home for the next year. I chose you two to live together specifically because you are on two ends of the age spectrum." He gave a knowing look to Louis, who stared back at him with a new serious look on his face. He nodded sincerely and looked back to Harry, who was looking all around the room in a childish manor, still trying to take in everything the new flat contained.

"Furthermore," Simon continued, smirking slightly as he watched Louis smack Harry on the back of the head to get him to pay attention, "I expect you two to enjoy yourselves, but I also expect you to be responsible and hold up to your duties."

Louis and Harry shared a look and nodded at Simon, who spoke again, "So there are obviously rules to living here—living with each other," Simon corrected himself and rolled his eyes as the two boys shared groans, "The first rule: You must refrain from walking around the house in just your knickers, _or_ completely naked—the press know you are here, and we don't want any accidents or tabloid photos," He stared directly at Harry, "Now do we?"

Harry only threw his hands up in protest, "Why do you look at me when you say that?"

Simon narrowed his eyes and gave him a look, "Well, who _should_ I be looking at?"

Harry looked down and fiddled with his hands, mumbling his response, almost as if he were embarrassed, "Me."

Simon smiled, "Exactly. Now, the second rule: No girls." He whipped his head to look at Louis, whose face was shell-shocked as Simon directed his attention towards him, "I mean it."

Louis put his hands on his hips, "Why do you look at me when you say that?"

All Simon had to do was raise a conspicuous eyebrow, and Louis considered his implication, "Alright, fine—no girls."

Harry's gasp for air forced both men to look at him—he was holding his chest and his face was red, almost as if he couldn't breathe. Louis ran over to him as he crumbled to the ground, and Louis caught him before his face hit the hard wood floor.

"Harry? Harry? Are you alright? Can you hear me?" Louis cried as he shook the younger boy. He pressed his hands lightly onto Harry's toned chest to check to see if he was still breathing. He moved his face down towards Harry's nose, to see if he could hear any type of inhale or exhale. As he did this, he subconsciously let his hands wander down Harry's leg and he rested it on his upper thigh, squeezing it lightly to see if he could get a reaction out of him.

To most, and in this case Simon, this was again, a normal act between the two. But Louis had…other motives.

But he'd never let anyone else know that.

"What happened? Do I need to call a doctor? What's his mother's mobile number?" Simon asked question after question, reaching for his phone in his back pocket and rushing to the kitchen to see for a glass of water and a washcloth.

Harry moved to face Louis and Louis leaned his head closer to see if he was breathing.

"Harry? You alright?"

Harry shifted again, and his lips parted, "No. I'm not. I need...I need…"

"What do you need, Harry?" Louis whispered cautiously. He was scared as hell—his best friend was lying on the ground and appeared to be having a hard time breathing. He didn't care about the press, or the gig they had next week, or even if Harry could perform—all he cared about was his best friend and if he was going to be okay.

The boy in Louis' arms smiled softly and whispered, "I need girls!" Louis rolled his eyes, groaned, and dropped him onto the floor; not bothering to care if Harry cracked his skull. Harry, on the other hand, burst into a fit of laughter, which earned a smack in the head from Simon,

"Ow, Simon—!"

"Don't you pull a stunt like that _ever_ again! You had me worried sick! Can you imagine what would have happened if we brought doctor's over and you were simply alright! It would cause a cluster of a mess, Harry. _This is what I mean, Louis_!" Simon turned to Louis, who was rubbing his face in agony. He looked up from his hands and sighed,

"I know, Simon, I know."

Harry finally got up from his state on the floor and looked to Simon, "Look, I'm sorry, alright? It was only meant to be a joke! How can you expect me to follow that rule and not have any girls over? Simon," He gripped the older man's shirt, and looked at him, "I. Need. Girls. I'm a seventeen year old boy for Christ's sake!"

"My thoughts exactly!" Simon exclaimed. "You're a seventeen year old boy… In one of the most popular and successful boy bands in the country! Not only will being and canoodling with girls distract you, but we also don't need an emotional and depressed Harry Styles on the tour bus! Girls only want to be with you because of your fame, and you are naïve to think otherwise."

Harry sighed and placed a heavy hand on Simon's shoulder, an amused eyebrow raised, "Are you trying to protect my virtue, Simon? That's very sweet of you, but it is entirely unnecessary." Harry smirked devilishly at Simon, who pushed him off of his white collared shirt. Simon dusted himself off and retrieved his keys from the key hook. He turned to face them and directed his attention towards Louis.

"Louis." He demanded.

Louis looked up from his seated position on the couch. His hands were cradling his face and he looked completely dreadful. He made eye contact with Simon and nodded,

"Yes, sir?"

"I'll be seeing you next week. Remember what we talked about. And Harry—"

"Yes, captain Simon?" Harry said, smiling.

Simon just chuckled at the nickname, "Try not to drive your flat mate up a wall, yeah?"

Harry sighed and nodded, giving Louis a worried glance, "Yeah, sure, no problem."

"Well, I'm off. Goodbye, boys."

The two waved Simon goodbye and he shut the door behind himself. Harry shook his head,

"Well, he sure does have something stuck up his rear end, doesn't he?"

Louis groaned and rubbed his hands up and down his face, "He's just doing his job to protect us, Harry. He's made a few good points."

Harry frowned and walked over to his best friend and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders,

"What's the matter, Lou? Come on, talk it out." Harry patted the other boys' knee and Louis looked up at him.

"You can't pull crap like that, Hazza. It's…scary. I—I don't really know what I would do if something like that really happened…"

Harry's look of amusement turned to one of hurt. He rubbed Louis shoulder slowly, letting his fingers trace lightly over the exposed skin Louis' t-shirt gave off.

"Louis, I'm sorry. I'm...a prick. I didn't mean to scare you," He cupped Louis' cheek and turned his face so Harry could look into his eyes, "I don't want to do that to you."

Louis nodded and turned away, "I know. It's just…I feel…protective over you. If something were to happen to you, I feel like it would be my fault. You're young, and I'm worried about you."

Louis turned to look back at Harry, and he was taken aback by how worried he looked about him. Louis sighed and turned to look away from him again. He knew Harry was only joking, but just imagining a scenario in which he wasn't joking…

Well…he was trying _not_ to imagine it.

He felt his face be pulled towards Harry again, and shivers crawled up his spine when Harry's thumb rubbed against his cheek.

"Don't worry, Lou," Harry said, pulling the boy into a comforting hug. He wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back,

"You don't need to worry—I'll be more careful. I'll make sure nothing bad happens to me."

* * *

><p>Louis drummed his fingers impatiently on the arms of the plush white seat in Simon Cowell's office. He checked his wrist watch for the fifth time in the span of five seconds and groaned—he really did not want to be there.<p>

Simon Cowell was a man of order and control. So while on the outside it seemed like a good thing, to the members of One Direction, it was one of the most irritating things about the man. On top of scheduling radio interviews, 5AM televised interviews and photo shoots, Simon required the boys to meet with him the first week of every month, just to "catch up on things."

And Louis, being the most outspoken one of the group, decided to take the first of every month as his individual meeting day.

On this cold, stressing first day in February, he sat in Simon's waiting room wishing he wasn't so damn enthusiastic.

It was only a few moments later that Simon burst into the waiting room, tea in one hand and a file in the other. He looked at Louis and gave him a quick smile,

"Hello Louis. You can come with me into my office."

Louis nodded and lifted himself off the couch, following suit and closing the door behind him after he entered Simon's office. When he first entered Simon's office a bit over a year ago, he was startled by how much white was in it—it was everywhere. It did make the room look cleaner, (and a hell of a whole lot nicer), but for the first few meetings, it was always distracting to the oldest member of the band.

Now, everything to Louis looked bland and dull.

He took a seat in a chair in front of Simon's desk, and watched as Simon tossed some papers around.

"Sorry Lou, things have been a bit hectic these past few months."

Louis sighed sadly and slid his cap off of his head, letting it rest in his hand, "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Simon stopped what he was doing immediately and gave him a sympathetic look, "Louis, I'm sorry, I know—I know things have been hard." He bit his lip, "Which is sort of what I wanted to focus our meeting today on."

Louis fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably, "Well, what do you mean?"

Simon sighed deeply and took his reading glasses off of his eyes and placed them softly on his desk. What he was going to say wasn't going to be easy, but it needed to be heard.

"Louis, when I first made you five boys into one group, I never imagined how big you would become; how powerful and successful you would be. But on top of all of that, the thing that surprised me the most was how close you boys have gotten to be with each other. To be honest, it's a bit sickening to see how much you boys care about each other."

Louis snorted at that. "Care" was such an understatement for the five boys. Though Louis couldn't speak for the rest of them, to him, he absolutely, irrevocably, genuinely loved them. He would do anything for them, and he liked to think they would do the same thing for him.

Simon seemed to miss his chortle and continued, "So when…_everything_ happened 3 months ago, I was afraid for all of you," He took a deep breath, "But mostly for you."

Louis' drooped head shot up at Simon's last words, and he shook his head, already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask, "Me? Wh—why me?"

Simon folded his hand, "Well, you and Harry were always…extremely close."

Louis nodded nervously, "Yeah, _we all are close_—"

"No Louis," Simon chuckled, "You're not. I mean yes, you are, but what you and Harry had was…special. It was different." He added with a small smile.

Louis felt his throat close as he swallowed the large lump in his throat. He really didn't like where this conversation was going, and he really didn't want to have any sort of conversation about Harry right now, especially on this day.

"And…you know you can always tell me what you are feeling, Louis. And feel free to interject if I'm incorrect, but, I always sensed something more with you two."

"More?"

"Yes, more."

Louis leaned back in his chair and dragged a hand over his face, skillfully wiping the tears that were dripping down his face as he did so. He took a deep breath and pressed his hands onto his thighs, looking down. He was afraid this was where the conversation was leading. And while he wanted to be completely honest with Simon and tell him everything—how miserable he had been since Harry died, how those fucking dreams were haunting him every night—he couldn't muster up the courage. And he wouldn't. Especially not today.

No, _today_ was just not that day.

"Simon," He began, "I'm sorry. But I…I can't talk about this right now. It's…too soon." He muttered quietly, staring into space.

Simon shook his head, "Listen, Louis, I know this is hard, but," He took a deep breath, "It's been three months. And…I know people grieve at their own pace, and I know how close you two were—"

"You don't know Simon," He gave Simon an uncharacteristic glare; "You don't know the half of it."

Simon frowned, "Well tell me. Help me understand! Louis, I want to be here for you."

"I don't need you."

"You need somebody—"

"If Harry were here—"

"Well he's not! Louis, _you need to move on_!"

The words hit Louis like a ton of bricks and he stumbled back into his chair—which was odd, because he hadn't realized in his argument with Simon, he had stood up and leaned onto his desk.

As Louis collided with the chair, he found that his chest hurt, and it was also then that he realizes his eyes were wet with tears. He wiped them away fiercely and watched Simon take a seat at his desk again.

He gave a sad look to Louis and handed him a few tissues, which he took graciously, and spoke softly,

"I know you loved him, Louis." Louis opened his mouth to protest, but Simon held up his hand which stopped him, "Don't try denying it, Louis, it's quite obvious."

Louis took a shuddering breath and ran a hand through his hair. _Shit._

He stayed silent and waited for Simon to continue, "And because of that, I have a proposition for you."

Louis rubbed his eyes and sniffed, his voice cracking as he spoke, "What is that?"

"I think you should leave."

Louis sat upright quickly, a look of horror on his face, "What? Are you crazy? I'm not leaving this band! What's the matter with you-!"

"No!" Simon exclaimed, "No Louis, relax, that's not what I meant. I meant something different."

Louis nodded for him to continue. So he did,

"Because of these unresolved feelings you have, and because you are reminded of Harry every day when you go home at night…"

"What are you trying to say?" Louis asked shakily, already knowing the answer. And knowing he was going to absolutely _hate_ it.

Simon bit his lip, thinking of the perfect way to word his suggestion. Eventually, he figured he couldn't put it any other way but bluntly.

"I think you should move out of your flat."


	3. Chapter Two

**August 17****th**

"Urgh."

Louis groaned as he tossed and turned in his hotel bed, stretching his back to discharge the sudden stress that was building in the lower region. These kinds on pains usually occurred when the older band member was under a lot of stress. With the building success of the band, the interviews, the scheduled appearances, vocal lessons, and not to mention Simon riding him and pushing him to be _better_, he was surprised these pains hadn't come sooner.

Another searing pain tore through his spine, causing him to arch his back, "Ugh!"

He sat up and leaned forward, trying to crack his back to see if it would release any kind of heaviness.

It didn't.

Louis looked to his left warily, to make sure his crying pains hadn't woken up Harry, who was sleeping peacefully in the bed next to him.

Louis sighed and flopped onto his back, moaning again. Maybe he needed to get up and move around to ease some of the pain. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He moved to the foot of his bed and lifted his arms and stood on his tip-toes to stretch. Then he leaned forward completely so his hands touched his toes. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt some of the pain go away.

"Ahhhh."

"Louis? What are you doing?" Came a groggy voice.

Louis snapped back up, his face one of surprise as his eyes were met with Harry's, who was now sitting up in his bed. He gave a cheeky smile to the older band member and rubbed his eyes,

"Isn't it a bit early for a stretch, mate?" He checked the night table clock and pointed at it, "It's three in the morning!"

Louis groaned as he felt another sharp pain ring through his back. He gripped his back with his hand and stumbled back to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. Harry, with a great look of concern on his face, leaped out of his bed and sat next to his friend,

"You alright Lou? What's going on with your back?" Harry's hand found their way underneath Louis' shirt and he began to lightly rub his back. Louis sighed contently, liking the way Harry's hands felt on his skin. He leaned forward as his shoulders eased up, and Harry spoke,

"Feel better, hmm?"

Louis nodded and let his head rest in his hands as Harry continued to rub his back.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, and Louis realized that Harry's hands were rubbing his back.

They were rubbing. His back. _Hard_. His thumb was hitting all of the right points, and the other finger tips were moving along with his thumb's rotations.

And he loved it.

Louis took a look up at Harry, whose head was down as if he had found a new interest in the carpet pattern. He smiled and continued to stare, taking in the other boys' features. Louis loved everything about Harry, but his favorite feature were his eyes—the way they bore into your soul whenever he was merely speaking to you, how they shined with light whenever he smiled, and the way his eyes softened whenever he took a glance at Louis…

And suddenly, with no ulterior motive, with no way of stopping it, Louis realized that Harry may be the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

Louis shook his head at the thought and immediately looked back down at the floor, mimicking Harry. He felt a nervous butterfly creep through his core, and he rubbed his eyes.

What was he thinking?

Was it so wrong for him to think of his best friend as someone beautiful? Was it so wrong for him to want Harry's hands on his back—on _any_ part of his body—for as long as he could have him?

Right now, Louis wasn't sure.

"Lou?"

Louis looked up and Harry was staring at him, "Hmm?"

"Lay down."

"Wha—" Louis said, completely confused and a look of horror plastered onto his face.

"On your stomach." Harry said, as if he were talking to a bunch of three year olds, with an eyebrow raised in anticipation.

Louis gave him a quizzical look, "Why?" He asked slowly.

Harry smiled and pushed his shoulder so he would move, "So I can give you a massage, why else?"

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, Harry's easy going and carefree charm making him a bit more comfortable.

Before Louis could lie down, Harry stopped him, "Take off your shirt. It'll be easier."

Louis considered this and stripped easily in front of Harry. Though this, again, was something that normally went on between the two without a second thought, Louis suddenly felt uneasy and self-conscious about being so exposed in front of him, even though they were in complete darkness. Which is why after he took off his shirt, he immediately laid down on the bed, letting his arms fold in front of him.

"Okay, work your magic, maestro." Louis said jokingly, trying to keep the air calm between the two.

Well…on his end at least.

Louis stiffened when he felt Harry straddle his back. Harry cracked his knuckles and leaned down so his lips were near Louis ear, and he shivered when he felt his breath dance across his earlobe,

"Are you ready?"

_No._

"Mhm. Yes. Sure." Louis said, stuttering his words. Harry, who was oblivious to this, slowly started to work his hands up and down Louis' back. Louis groaned at the contact, feeling some of the pain go away with every movement Harry's hands made. He allowed himself to relax and he sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides and moving his head so his cheek was pressed against the bed sheets.

Amongst the feelings of relief in his back, Louis started to feel anxious. Normally, in an event like this where the two were so close in proximity, Louis wouldn't hesitate to kiss Harry's cheek, or touch him in any way he could.

But now?

Now Louis didn't know what to do. Was it because he suddenly saw what Harry really was? Was it because now, all he wanted to do was flip Harry over and—

"Wow, you're _really_ tight."

"What?" Louis said dreamily, getting dragged out of his train of thought.

"Is this what happens when you get old, then?" Harry pushed harder into his back, and Louis responded with a groan, "Did you forget where you were? Do I need to put you in a home already?" Harry teased continuing his ministrations.

Louis rolled his eyes, letting the anxiousness he was feeling leave him and letting the cantankerous boy in him shine through. He and Harry were always good at banter, and he was glad things were starting to feel like old times again. He showed Harry an obscene finger, "You're a prat!"

"Oh, I just _love_ it when you call me names, baby." Harry drawled, teasing him again. He let his thumb press hard against a sore spot.

"Fuck!" Louis cried, gripping the bed sheets, forgetting that Louis "That hurt, you _jerk!_"

Harry laughed again, placing a light kiss on the sore spot and continuing to rub it softly. Louis felt butterflies flutter into his core as his lips lingered on the spot. When he tore away, he spoke,

"Oh, come on," he whispered, "What would you do without me, hmm?"

Neither of them knew that in just a few months, Louis would have to face the answer to that question.

* * *

><p>Louis craned his neck as he sat in Liam's flat on his couch. He rubbed his neck again, but the pain that was there shot up into his neck again, and he ended up crying out in agony. Liam looked up from his headphones quickly, a concerned look on his face.<p>

_Always the dad._

"Lou, you alright over there?"

Louis gave him a wary look, but nodded, ignoring the consistent pinching in his neck, "I'm okay."

Liam gave him a wayward glance and took off his headphones, setting them on top of his laptop. "You're lying. Why do you keep rubbing your neck, then?"

Louis simply shrugged and Liam walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Louis looked up and Liam gave him a knowing smile,

"Are you stressed out about something?"

Louis lifted his shoulders. Of everyone in the band, minus one other, Liam was the most observant, and of course, he knew everything about everyone.

So of _course_ he knew he was stressed out; His vocal lessons had been going worse and worse the past few weeks, he kept messing up the dance routine during rehearsals, he wasn't sleeping, or eating, and on top of everything else shitty in his life, Simon would not leave him alone about moving out of his flat.

Pain soared through Louis' neck at the thought and he reached to rub it, hissing in pain.

So yes, you could say Louis was stressed out about _something_.

While Louis had immediately rejected Simon's offer, telling him to "fuck off" and "no way in hell am I moving out of that flat," the past few days he had been wondering if maybe Simon was right.

It wasn't that he wanted to move out, because he didn't. The flat held too many memories within its walls. Every inch of that place was Louis' home, and nobody was going to tell him he had to leave it!

It wasn't he who wanted to leave the flat, it's just…Louis knew it would be what Harry wanted him to do. Because Harry only ever cared about his well-being. And if Harry saw all of the shit Louis was going through, he would personally and physically throw Louis out of the flat until he was all sorted out.

At this thought Louis laughed to himself. _That bastard._

Jesus. He missed Harry so much.

Louis felt Liam sit next to him on the couch, "Lou, come on." He said carefully.

"Come on, _what_?"

"Let me help you!" Liam exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "I love you, Lou. But we've all tried to move on from this. I know you think about it every day, but that isn't helping." He stared at Louis softly, then looked down at his hands, "And I know Simon suggested you leave the flat—"

"I'm not leaving-!" Louis interjected sternly.

"And I'm not saying you should. I know what that place means to you. I'm just saying I hate seeing you like this. _We all do_. And I know it's difficult to lose someone you love, but Louis," He shook his shoulders, "You haven't even been trying to move on. It's been a bit over three months since…since Harry died. You need to try. For your sake _and_ for the bands' sake. It's just…" Liam paused to look at Louis and make sure he wasn't going to throw a fit,

"I feel like we are losing you."

Louis glanced up at Liam and rubbed his sore neck. He felt a pang of sadness in his heart as he heard the broken words Liam said. He didn't realize his suffering was also affecting his friends. And while he did lose someone very important to him, he sort of failed to realize that three other people lost someone, too.

Louis opened his arms to invite Liam in for a hug, and the younger boy gratefully entered his embrace. They held each other tightly and Louis sighed, feeling sorry he put Liam through so much worry,

"I'm sorry Liam. It's not that I don't want to move on, it's just that I—"

"Can't?" Liam finished softly before pulling away from him. Louis sighed and looked down, but the action caused more tension in his neck, and he grabbed it and cried out in pain again,

"Shit!" He muttered, rubbing the tenderness. Liam laughed and moved to get behind Louis on the couch,

"Do you want me to work it out for you?" He asked, "Niall tends to get them a lot and I've helped him a few times."

Louis shrugged and turned so his back was facing him, and he looked down so Liam could get a better angle.

Louis cringed slightly when Liam's hands began to rub Louis' sore spot. While the sore spot was getting worked out, to some degree, Louis couldn't help but feel…uncomfortable with Liam's hands on his neck.

First of all, his hands were freezing. Which made goose bumps creep onto his skin. And Louis was used to warm hands when he got a massage.

_Like Harry's._

Liam also had callouses on his hands, so he felt like his neck was being scratched, and he wished he had soft, smooth hands rubbing his neck.

_Like Harry's._

Louis shook his head and Liam hit another sore spot, but before he could make any type of objectifying noise, Liam spoke,

"How does it feel?"

Louis shrugged, "A bit better, I suppose. But not by much."

Liam frowned, "I'm sorry. Is there something else I could do-?"

"No, no." Louis said, "It's alright." A pause, "I think I'm going to head out. It's getting late, and we have that interview in the morning." At this, Louis stood up and ruffled Liam's hair, before turning and walking towards the main door.

"It's because I'm not Harry, isn't it?"

Louis turned around to see a standing Liam with a concerned look on his face. Louis gulped the knot forming in his throat and he shook his head,

"What are you talking about?"

Liam sighed, "I know you loved him."

At this Louis scoffed, though he knew the words meant something deeper, "Of course I loved him. We all did—"

"No Louis." He gave him a sympathetic look, "I know you loved him as more than a brother—as more than a friend."

Louis stared at his friend in shock. How did he-? What did he-? Louis sighed in defeat. _Fuck._

Liam smiled and walked closer to his friend, "And that's…okay. I mean, I know all of the boys could figure it out. I've just always know. And I'm…happy you were able to find someone who meant that much to you. I'm glad you were able to feel what it's like to love someone."

Louis choked back a sob he didn't realize he was holding and covered his mouth in surprise. He felt his eyes water and before he knew it, tears began to stream down his face. Liam wiped a few of them away with his thumb and Louis laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"It's not that you're not Harry, Liam." Louis began, "I just miss him! I miss him so much. I've always ever had Harry to depend on. I don't know how to depend on anyone else."

Liam nodded in understanding and this time; let Louis into a warm embrace. Louis crumbled into his arms, letting the tears fall again, and making a mess out of Liam's t-shirt. Liam cooed into his ear and rubbed his back.

"It's alright Louis. I understand. Harry was your person. Like Niall is the person I go to whenever I need someone to lean on. But you have to face it, Harry isn't here anymore." At this, Louis let out a heart wrenching sob, and Liam hugged him tighter, continuing,

"But, you have three brothers here—three people who are willing to let you come to them and be here for you. We can be your new 'person', Louis. And you will get through this. We will get through this. You don't have to do this alone."

Louis only cried harder, and Liam pulled away from him, holding both of Louis' shoulders and staring into his eyes,

"We can do this together."


	4. Chapter Three

"Where are we?"

Louis looked around, his mind wondering the same question. Where _was_ he?

He glanced around again, taking in what he saw; a large body of water sat before him, and he was standing in sand, and watched as little waves splashed against the shoreline. Currently, he was standing against a tree, looking into the distance—which consisted of nothing.

And next to him, was Harry Styles, adorably confused.

"How did I get here?" Louis heard him again.

Of course Louis knew the answer—it had been haunting him for months. But he didn't want to tell Harry that. At least…not yet.

Because then, he might have more of a reason to leave him. Again.

"I'm not sure, love." Louis said softly, trying to console the nervous boy, "In fact, I don't know how I got here, either."

Louis sighed and took another look around before he heard Harry's voice coming from a slight distance. He sounded strained, wounded even. And Louis turned around briskly only to have his suspicions confirmed.

"I want to sit down." He saw Harry clutching his head before sitting down against the tree, his back against the trunk. Louis rushed to his side,

"Harry, are you alright?" Harry shook his head and squeezed his temples,

"My head…it's _pounding_ Louis."

Louis reached over and cradled Harry's head, letting it into his lap. He stroked his hair softly, trying to relieve him of his pain.

"Shh, it's okay Harry. It's okay."

Harry shuddered and let Louis hold him, but it wasn't before long that he was screaming in pain again. He grabbed both sides of his head with his hands and curled up in Louis' lap, breathing heavily,

"Why won't this just go away!" He cried in agony.

Louis looked around for something, _anything_ that might make Harry feel better. But they were at a beach—the only thing that could possibly help Harry would be to drink water—but not even that was good, considering it was salt water.

Louis looked back down at the sick boy with shame—there was nothing he could do to help him.

It was a terrible thing to face.

Louis sighed and continued to hold Harry, bringing him closer to his chest. He spoke quickly, almost frantically, as if he knew he didn't have that much time.

"How about I sing to you, yeah? Do you want me to do that, Harry?" _I'll do anything for you._

Harry only groaned and nodded in response, and turned his head so he was facing Louis. Louis sighed deeply and softly caressed Harry's cheek, and he began to sing.

_If I don't say this now I will surely break_

_As I'm leaving the one I want to take_

_Forgive the urgency but hurry up and wait_

_My heart has started to separate_

Harry seemed to ease up at the familiar tune and closed his eyes, taking a sigh of relief. Louis grinned, letting his hand run over Harry's forehead, wiping the mass of curls from his eyes. Harry blinked and gazed up at him, his dimples present with his wide smile.

_Oh, oh, oh_

_Be my baby_

_Oh, oh, oh_

_Oh, oh, oh_

_I'll look after you_

_There now, steady love, so few come and don't go_

_Will you, won't you be the one I always know?_

_When I'm losing my control, the city spins around_

_You're the only one who knows, you slow it down—_

Harry groaned loudly, clutching his head and then suddenly, his gut. He moaned again, crawling over Louis and onto his side again. He began rocking back and forth, as if that would relieve of him the pain. Louis, with a startled look on his face, crawled over to Harry, who was now, as if by magic, by the shore line. He reached out and grabbed Harry, pulling him back into his arms.

"Louis!" Harry croaked.

"It's okay, love. I'm here." He held him close. I've got you. I'm not going to let you go. I'm not letting you go anywhere."

Harry shivered in his arms and he could feel him clutch tightly onto his t-shirt. His breathing was getting shallower with each second that passed, and Louis was starting to panic.

It was only a few moments later that Harry spoke, his voice hardly a whisper,

"Louis, I can't do this. I can't be here. I have to go."

Louis looked down, panic flushing across his face in a flash, "What? No, you can't!

"The pain—Lou—I can't _live_ with this—" Harry winced, now clutching his gut—for dear life. His eyes grew wider with every breath he took.

Louis dragged a hand down his face, his eyes welling up with tears, "Well try damn it! For God's sake, try! Try! Try for _me_!"

"You know I'd try for you if I could, Louis." Harry croaked, looked up from Louis' lap with sorrow. He spoke again, "You're the only person _worth_ trying for. But I…I can't." He panted slightly, his eyes wincing again. Louis reached out to hold his hand and Harry squeezed it. "It hurts everywhere. I wish it wasn't like this." His light eyes were losing its normal twinkle, and Louis knew he didn't have a lot of time.

"Don't do this!" Louis begged desperately, "Don't leave me _again_!" He looked around in fear, and spoke softly, only to himself, "Why does this keep happening to me?"

Harry began to get heavier in his arms, and Louis held onto him harder, grabbing whatever body part he could, as if his hands would heal him, "Don't leave me, Harry. Please. Stay, I'll take care of you."

"It's too late." Harry said, his eyes beginning to close.

"No, it's not. It's never too late."

"Let me go, Louis." Harry said with a hitched breath.

"I can't. I _won't_." Louis protested.

"You have to. Please, for me, Louis. Try to let go, for _me_."

"Please, you can't leave me. You always leave me, Harry!"

Harry closed his eyes and said tearfully, "I'm breaking."

"_I'll fix you_!"

"Louis…" He breathed.

"_I love you_, _Harry!"_

And then, just like always, right on schedule, Harry vanished from Louis' sight.

* * *

><p>Louis stared blankly out of the window of the dance studio. That seemed to be all he did nowadays—stare and blink. Stare and blink. Remember to breathe. Stare. Blink. Nod accordingly. Stare.<p>

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Louis thought no one would notice his distance. He thought at least for his sake, his lack of attentiveness would be ignored. He assumed everyone would leave him know—because they knew he was hurting.

Clearly to everyone around him, this was a stupid thought.

"Hey, Lou!"

Louis' turned slowly away from the window towards the source of the buzzing that sounded a lot like his name.

"Louis!"

He turned completely and saw Niall holding up two sandwiches with a huge grin on his face, "Come on, lad! We're going to eat!" Niall's bright eyes met Louis', and his wide smile turned slowly into a frown,

"You…you are going to _eat_, aren't you?" He asked worriedly, walking over to Louis. Louis looked up at him and sighed defeated.

True to Liam's word, the other boys of One Direction had been trying very diligently to get Louis' spirits up. They took him wherever they went—whether it be a movie, miniature golfing, or for just a stroll down to a nearby park. And Louis put on a strong face for them. He tried to be happier for them. But when it came down to it—trying to change for them wasn't helping him. If he wanted to move on, he concluded, he needed to do it for himself.

And right now, he couldn't bring himself to do that—because moving on to him meant forgetting. And why the _fuck_ would he want to forget the greatest thing that ever walked into his life?

"Lou?"

Louis blinked and shook his head, smiling softly at Niall, "Yea Niall?"

Niall handed him the sandwich, "Are you going to eat?"

Louis nodded and weakly smiled. He took the sandwich slowly from Niall's hands, and the Irish native excitedly took the seat next to him,

"So Lou—"

"Yes, Niall?"

"You excited for our next performance then? It's going to be huge, you know. I really can't wait—you hear Simon? He said I might get to play my guitar!"

Louis smiled graciously. Niall was always so chipper after rehearsals, and he appreciated the normalcy that Niall produced. Out of all of the boys, Niall was careful to _not_ act differently around him since Harry's death. He was still the goofy, silly, adorable, Irish, eating-obsessed Niall he loved.

Liam, the dad-type figure of the group, always gave Louis a sympathetic smile whenever the opportunity arose. And Zayn, also taking the death of Harry hard, just chose not to really speak to Louis. When he acknowledged him, he gave Louis a sincere pat on the shoulder and his head always fell, so he was staring at the floor, as if the ground would suddenly give him the answers everyone wished they could have.

"Why did Harry have to die?"

"What did he do to deserve this?"

"He had such a good future ahead of him, just…why was he taken from me?"

And for Louis, his personal favorite,

"_Why wasn't it me instead?"_

Louis shook his head and wiped a stray tear from his eye, sniffing loudly, and using the food as comfort. Niall, always observant, took note of this and wrapped an arm around his friend, rubbing his shoulder lovingly,

"What's the matter, Lou?"

"Everything." Louis muttered, taking another small bite of his sandwich, taking note that it tasted completely bland.

Niall shrugged, but smiled, trying to be enthusiastic, "Well, that can't be true. Not everything in this world is terrible, ya know."

"It is for me."

"Well—" Niall began, but another voice cut him off,

"You're not the only person who's lost someone, Louis."

Both boys whipped their heads around towards the door of the studio and their eyes met Zayn's, who looked positively dreadful.

Louis stood up defensively. He softened his voice, trying not to start a fight, "I know that, Zayn. Of course I do—"

"Then you should stop acting like you're the only one who has lost someone! We were friends with him too—_We loved him too_!" Zayn retorted sternly.

Louis' clenched his fists into tight balls, his fingernails digging hard into his palm; he was surprised they hadn't started to bleed. He understood Zayn, but what he didn't understand was how they were able to go on with their daily lives and not feel pain. What he didn't understand was why he was miserable, and everyone else seemed to be all fucking fine and dandy.

"I know you did! Jesus, I know you loved him. But why am I the only one who seems to give a shit about Harry being dead!" He felt his anger suddenly boil at its peak, and he knew nothing could stop him now, "What _I _don't understand," Louis began darkly, "Is how all of you can rehearse and sing and be happy without him here! How can all of you be without him and not_ feel_ anything? _How_?"

"Just because we aren't moping around doesn't mean we don't care! Everyone grieves differently, Lou!" Zayn exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the table. His eyes were wide and wet and he was breathing in heavy pants. Normally this would cause concern in Louis, but at this point he could care less.

"That's not fair! He was our best friend! How can you so easily not feel anything after you've lost a best friend?" Louis could feel his tears drip down his face, but he refused to wipe them away.

"Just because I don't show you what I'm feeling doesn't mean I don't feel anything! Everyone deals with death in different ways—but you…you need to try and move on Lou. This is getting out of hand! We've all moved on, why can't you?" Zayn asked harshly, but soft enough so Louis understood there was a part of him that cared to know.

"I can't move on…because I _can't_." Louis sighed and placed his hands on his hips, crushed, "You said everyone deals with death differently, right?" Zayn and Niall nodded in agreement and Louis continued, "So let me deal with this my way. Just," a pause, "Leave me alone about it."

With that, Louis picked up his bag and stormed out of the rehearsal room, the sob he had been holding in echoing through the walls and ringing in Zayn and Niall's ears.

The walk back to his flat turned out to be longer than Louis had anticipated, yet a mere two hours later, Louis was dragging his feet through his front door, making sure to pick up the mail on his way in.

He tossed off his shoes and found his way to the couch, still holding his mail. He rubbed his tear soaked eyes, realizing he had cried all of the way home. He felt terrible for the fight he had gotten into with Zayn. He knew Zayn didn't understand what he was feeling, but that wasn't particularly his fault. Louis shook his head and leaned back into his couch, feeling his phone vibrate for the umpteenth time.

He took out his phone and saw he had 12 missed calls and two texts.

Four calls were from Zayn, four calls were from Niall, and four calls were from Liam.

Louis had to laugh—so typical of the boys to call equal amounts of times. He opened his phone to its messages page and opened the first one.

**From: Liam**

_Call me, please. I need to make sure you're alright._

Louis sighed and opened the next one, deciding to handle that text later.

**From: Zayn**

_Call me, please Lou. I want to understand. I need to. You're my brother, and I feel like I'm losing you._

_Z_

Louis felt guilt in the put of his stomach and he groaned. He glanced at the text again and threw the phone onto the other side of the couch. He wasn't ready to face the demons that were haunting him.

Actually, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready. Louis already had issues that he battled and conquered with the help of Harry.

But now that he was gone, he had no one to help him. No one to make sure he was getting by.

So he didn't know for sure if he would ever be okay with facing this alone. And that terrified him.

He took a deep breath and decided to take a look at his mail, simply for something to do.

_Men's_ magazine. He tossed it onto the coffee table.

Just the electric bill. He threw it to the floor, deciding to let Simon deal with it tomorrow.

Another bill. Onto the floor.

Coupon book. The floor.

Hospital bill. The floor—

_A hospital bill_?

Louis picked it up carefully, glancing at the return address. He winced; as the return address was the same hospital that Harry was taken to before he died.

Louis inspected the envelope. Why would _he_ be getting a hospital bill? The accident was a bit less than three months ago.

Louis wasted no time in opening the envelope. He emptied out the contents of it and started reading through the papers. He noticed the bill was for a room charge, but there was also a statement attached.

He felt his heart drop to his stomach as he read the statement, key words popping out at him as he quickly read through it;

_Bleeding throughout the skull, and there was much brain damage—_

_Abdomen punctured badly. Death on impact—_

_Little to no chance of survival—_

Louis threw the papers out of his hands, unable to read anymore of the statement. He was silent for what seemed like hours. Why was he getting this statement? He didn't understand, he thought Harry's parents were dealing with his hospital bills.

"What does this mean?" Louis wondered aloud, "Does this mean anything?" He looked at the statement again.

Could this mean something…more?

The thought was immediately shut down by the voices of Zayn in his head, _"This is getting out of hand! We've all moved on, why can't you?"_

Louis shook his head and face palmed.

"The bill doesn't mean anything," He said to himself sternly, trying to convince himself, "It's a mistake. A fluke in the system. I'll give it to Simon tomorrow and it will be done with."

Louis nodded contently and put the hospital bill on the floor with the others. He stood up and headed upstairs. He turned to look back at the hospital bill and had a worry glint in his eye. He knew he should try to move on and forget about it, but he couldn't.

Because he knew this was going to be yet another thing that was going to haunt him.


	5. Chapter Four

**September 24****th**

"I really can't wait until we move _out_ of this place."

Louis flopped onto the too small couch, trying to get comfortable, but alas, there was no position he could move that would satisfy him. He groaned, contorting his body until finally, he settled for his head lying upside down, so it was dangling from the couch, while his legs stuck up in the air, looking as if he were going to flip backwards off of the couch.

"I know, mate, I'm so glad this place is just temporary" Harry mumbled, settling for the floor of their living room, using the couch as a back rest.

Louis nodded and turned up right. It was true; the two boys were pushed into a terribly small flat right after One Direction was signed by Sony, mostly because their new, much larger flat was still undergoing renovations and the boys needed a place to stay.

Don't get them wrong—they appreciated having a place to live—but after living there for months and months…let's just say they were highly anticipating moving out.

Though…Louis didn't particularly mind the close living quarters, especially when it meant being closer to Harry.

"Just think Lou, November 1st is a bit less than two months away! It'll be great living in a bigger place, don't you think?"

Louis nodded and smiled, moving from his position on the couch to ruffle Harry's curly hair, "It'll be something else, Harry."

Harry smiled and leaned against Louis, closing his eyes when Louis continued to run his fingers through his hair.

Harry loved when Louis played with his hair. Of course, everyone knew his hair was one of his prized possessions, and he didn't spend time on it every day just for himself—he knew he had to keep up appearances, considering he was in one of the biggest boy bands in the country.

However, he would never turn down the opportunity for Louis to play with his curls. But it could only be Louis.

It was the way his fingers felt against his scalp. Harry could never put his finger on it, but Louis' touch always made him feel…different—his touch made him feel not only calm, but _sensational_.

But he wasn't going to question why he felt this way.

He was afraid it would take away from the feeling he got. He loved the feeling, and he never wanted it to go away.

Louis began humming a familiar tune, and Harry began to hum along, letting his head lean back. He smiled when he felt Louis press a tender kiss to his forehead as he hummed, and he let his lips linger,

"I have to go, Hazza."

"Hmm?" Harry hummed, not really listening, his focus on the soft fingers pressing against his scalp.

"I have to go to the store, love."

Harry's eyes opened slowly, and he nodded, "Okay, can I go with you?"

Louis grinned, "Sure. Let me go grab my keys. They should be in the same place I _hid_ them from you last time!"

Harry laughed, "Why don't you let me drive, huh?"

Louis stood up and walked into another room before calling out, "Because you don't have a license!"

"Pish posh! No one drives with a license these days!"

"That's what you think," Louis said, returning from the room with his keys wrapped around his finger, "Also, I'm your guardian, remember? I have to make sure you don't go getting in car accidents. And that won't happen if I drive."

Harry gave him a disbelieving look and shook his head, "I bet you when I get my license I'll be a better driver than you are!"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

Harry smirked, and then gave him a contemplative look, "Lou?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you teach me how to drive?"

Louis froze immediately—he knew the day would come eventually where Harry would ask him to teach him how to drive.

He knew what his answer _had_ to be.

"Because," Louis said simply, trying to cover up his nervousness, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not…_certified_ to teach you." Lou said cautiously.

Harry got up and walked over to Louis, giving him a somber look and staring deep into his eyes. It was always Harry's eyes that got Louis to bend over backwards and give into his every wish.

He literally couldn't help it.

"Please Lou?" Harry grabbed Louis' hands and squeezed them, "You're my best friend, and I trust you. We won't even leave the street, I promise. Just…I'm 17 years old and I can't drive. And I'd love to be able to say that you were the person who taught me."

Louis groaned inwardly; of course Harry would use this on him. And of course, Louis would feel obligated to say yes.

Louis sighed. Screw Simon and his logic—he was going to give into Harry.

Louis squeezed Harry's hand and nodded, feeling his heart flutter when Harry's eyes shined with delight,

"Yes, alright, fine. I'll teach you—just don't tell Simon!"

Harry frowned slightly, but couldn't keep the amusement out his eyes, "Why can't I tell him?"

Louis shook his head and rattled his keys in front of Harry, "Don't worry about it, just don't mention it, yeah?" He held out the keys to Harry, "Do you want to drive, or not?"

Harry jumped and grabbed the keys from Louis, "'Course I do. Let's go!" Harry raced outside to see Louis' car parked outside, and Louis followed behind him, making sure to lock the door behind him. He turned back around towards the walkway, and smiled when he saw Harry already sitting in the driver's seat of Louis' car, honking the horn,

"Come on man! We don't have much time!"

Louis shook his head and ran towards the passenger seat, "Remember, only up and down the street," Louis reminded Harry as he strapped on his seat belt.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know." Harry muttered, starting the car and taking it out of its parking position and lightly put his foot on the gas pedal.

"There you are, that's it. Make sure you break a bit before the stop sign, my breaks are old…"

Comments like this went on for about ten minutes, and Louis was surprised with how well Harry was driving. He really was a fast learner, by the end of the fifteen minutes, he had already taught Harry how to parallel park! He let him drive up the street a bit more before he stopped him, remembering Simon's rules.

"Alright Hazza," Louis said, "Move so I can drive."

Harry pouted and put the car in park, "Please Lou? Let me drive to the store!" He gave Louis his puppy dog eyes, again, but Louis knew better, and turned his head away, opening his door so they could switch seats,

"No Harry. Come on, we need to go."

Harry rolled his eyes, but complied, "Oh alright, fine. But only because I love you."

Louis grinned and got in the driver's seat after Harry, waiting for him to get in the car before igniting the gas and driving to the store.

Once the boys got to the store, they were in and out in less than an hour, splitting up and getting the things they needed before meeting up at the checkout line. They paid and left quickly, Harry throwing his arm over Louis' shoulders as they walked to the car park.

"Louis?" Harry asked, pulling him in slightly closer.

"Yeah?"

"Can I drive home?"

Louis shook his head, "No, it's already getting really dark outside—"

"Oh but why! Come on, you saw me drive before and you said I was fine—"

"Yes, on a one way residential street! Driving home would mean going on the highway and—"

"I can do it! Come on! Don't you trust me?" Harry asked sadly, believing his words were true,

"Of course I do—"

"So let me drive. Listen, if I you start to get nervous—"

"_I'm already nervous_—"

"I'll pull over and let you drive. Okay? Please Lou? Please?" Harry looked at Louis deeply, "For me?"

Louis sighed, but seeing as he already broke Simon's rule, he decided there was no point in neglecting Harry. And like he said, if he got nervous, he would make Harry pull over. End of discussion.

He let Harry get in the driver's seat, and he warily strapped in his seat belt. Harry saw his uneasiness and laughed, reaching over to grip his thigh lightly, letting his thumb rub over his jeans,

"Hey, it's alright. I'll be careful, I promise. Here," He opened his hand and turned it over, so his palm was exposed, "I'll even hold your hand."

Louis stared at the outstretched hand, and easily laced his fingers with Harry, who squeezed his hand and let his thumb brush over his knuckle. He chuckled before starting the car and beginning his drive back to the flat.

The first fifteen minutes of the ride were going pretty smoothly—the boys were laughing and joking around, yet Harry was still completely alert while driving. Louis was starting to ease up and allowed himself to be calm, even though letting Harry drive could get him in big trouble.

"Hey Lou." Harry said, trying to catch his breath from laughter. He was pulling off of the highway now, and Louis was more than relieved.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you tell me not to tell Simon you let me drive?" He asked, taking a moment to glance over at him.

Louis sighed, figuring he didn't really have anything to lose, decided to tell him,

"Well—"

"_Oh my god, Lou!"_

"What—?"

Suddenly, Louis heard the front of the car collide into some hard with a loud, "BOOM!" He jolted forward, his head colliding with the dashboard somewhat softly, then suddenly, as if someone pushed him in his chest, his upper body flung backwards, making his back collide harshly with his seat.

It took Louis a moment to register what happened—he was just in a car accident, but what had they collided into?

Louis looked forward, out of the window and saw they his car was now nicely crashed with a tree just a few blocks from their flat. He let out a sigh of relief,

"Well, at least it wasn't another car, or a person." He looked over to Harry, and his face fell quickly.

Harry's eyes were closed and he was hanging over the driving wheel.

Louis unbuckled himself from his seat and reached over for him, pulling him off of the wheel and reclining the seat so he could get a better look at him,

"Harry?" He slapped his face, seeing if it would elicit some sort of response, "Harry, come on love, wake up."

"Lou?" Harry groaned, clutching his head.

"Oh, thank God." Louis muttered, letting his fingers run through Harry's hair and across his cheeks, relief flooding through him. If something bad happened to Harry because he was stupid enough not to listen to Simon…he didn't know what he would do with himself.

"My head hurts." Harry groaned again.

"I know, so does mine." A pause. "We have to get back to the flat to get some ice."

"Why don't we just call Simon?" Harry asked.

Louis' breath hitched as he thought of the consequences Simon would unleash for letting Harry drive. He immediately shook his head,

"No way. Simon would kill me—"

"Why?" Harry interjected, attempting to sit up, still holding his head.

"Because Simon knew you would ask me to drive. And he knew I would say yes. And he thought something like this would happen. But he thought you would get be much more wounded." Louis said regretfully, failing to hide the flinch that occurred after he said those words.

It really was something he did not want to think about.

Harry took a deep breath and frowned, letting his hands fall into his lap, "I'm sorry, Lou. If I would have known—"

"No, don't apologize, Harry. It was my fault for letting you drive in the first place. I shouldn't have let that happen."

"I shouldn't have forced you to let me drive—"

"You didn't, _I let you_.

"Yeah but—"

"I can't say _no_ to you, Harry." Louis concluded, shutting the younger singer up, "I'd do anything for you, you know." He added quietly.

Harry smiled at him warmly and pulled Louis in for a long hug. They held each other tightly and Harry's mouth found it's way to Louis' ear, and he whispered, just loud enough so he could hear him,

"I love you, Lou." He began, "And you know I'd walk through fire for you."

Louis nodded simply, "I know, I love you too. I'd do the same—"

Harry pecked Louis' cheek, letting his head fall onto Louis' shoulder, "I'm sorry we're in this mess."

Louis ruffled Harry's hair, trying to smile for him, and he let his hand linger against his neck. "It's alright, Harry. We'll figure it out. Though, I'm not sure we are going to be able to drive home." He stated, pointing to the damage on the front of his car.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't realize how sharp the turn was…"

"It's alright," Louis smiled, "I'm just worried as to how we will get home."

"We could walk?" Harry suggested.

"Nah, it's a bit cold out. And we are quite a few blocks away—we don't need to be getting sick, you know."

Harry nodded and looked around the car, an idea sparking in his mind, "Why don't we just stay here until it's light out?"

"You mean…_in_ the car?"

Harry nodded, "Yes! We have food, and I'm pretty sure there is a beach blanket in your trunk…" He looked at Louis excitedly, "Please?"

Louis melted at the look Harry was giving him—again with those damn eyes—and he couldn't help himself,

"Alright, yeah, let's do it."

Harry grinned and grabbed the blanket from the trunk while Louis reclined the back seat back as far as it would go, so it almost looked like a large, squishy platform.

Harry returned and immediately jumped into the back seat, letting the blanket cover his body and making room for Louis, "Come on then, I'm freezing!"

The oldest band member hummed and slid underneath the blanket next to Harry. The second he got under the blanket, Harry's arms found their way around Louis' waist, and before he knew it, Harry was practically lying on top of him, and his head was resting comfortably on his chest.

Louis wasn't complaining—Harry's body that close to his was something he could definitely get used to. He felt his heart drum as Harry snuggled closer into Louis and whispered a soft goodnight before Harry fell into a comfortable slumber.

Louis knew Simon was going to kill him in the morning for not being more careful—for not even _calling_ him—but he didn't care, because Harry was fine and in his arms. And to Louis, that was all that mattered to him.

What Louis didn't know was that in two months' time, he would regret ever letting Harry drive that day.

* * *

><p>Louis really hated cleaning—which he had to do every time Simon came to visit. Not only was he cleaning a flat that was way too big for one person, but he had to clean it by himself. Completely alone.<p>

He shuddered and threw a pair of socks into the laundry room, shaking away the thought, though it kept creeping back up.

Louis hated being alone, and he hated coming home to an empty house with no one to share it with.

He sighed, looking around the grand flat again. _ Maybe it is just too big…_

There was a sudden knock at the door, which really jolted Louis out of his thoughts. He glanced around the flat to make sure everything had been picked up and that it was presentable for Simon's standards before opening the door.

"Hello Simon," Louis said brightly, wishing his voice would cheer him up.

"'Ello Lou." Simon nodded and entered the flat, removing his scarf and placing it on the table that stood by the door.

"You cleaned before I got here, didn't you?" Simon smirked at Louis, who rubbed the back of his neck with his hand nervously.

"'Course I did. Wouldn't want you to reprimand me." Louis joked, closing the door behind Simon and meeting him in the living room, where they both took a seat on the couch.

"Ah yes, you know me very well, then." Simon smiled warmly at Louis and crossed his legs, which was a sign that a serious talk was brewing.

"Lou."

Louis looked down at the coffee table, which had the hospital statement lying on top of it, then back to Simon, "Yes?"

Simon sighed, "This is a very large flat." He said simply.

Louis nodded curtly and blinked. "Yes it is."

"You know my offer still stands—"

Louis stopped him by holding up his hand and smiling sadly, "Look, I'm going to be honest. I hate living here alone. I hate living here—being here—without Harry. It's…it's awful, Simon. And it kills me to be here and know he isn't going to come home at the end of the day," He paused again to catch his breath and shot Simon a tearful eye, "I know staring at the front door waiting for him to walk through it isn't going to help me," his voice cracked as he twiddled his fingers, looking around the flat again with a thoughtful smile,

"But Harry…if he were here Simon…he would kill me if I moved out. He loved this flat_. I_ love this flat. It sucks to live here alone, but if I leave…it would be like leaving Harry, even though he's not here," Louis beamed and laughed at himself, "I make no sense, I know, I'm sorry. But, I can't leave just because you want me to. I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

Simon smiled at the boy in front of him, his heart swelling at Louis' love for Harry. He patted his knee, "You can't let Harry go, can you?"

Louis shook his head, letting his head fall slightly, but Simon ruffled his hair, "You really loved him, didn't you?"

Louis couldn't help but smile softly, nodding his head and folding his hands in his lap, "Completely."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Well, this isn't something you just say, Simon. It's _more_ than I can put words."

"I understand." Simon smiled warmly at Louis, and reached his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for an awkward hug, letting his arm hang over his shoulder. Louis hesitantly leaned into him, finding an odd comfort in Simon.

Simon was not the type of person to gradually give out hugs; in fact, he would refute them if anyone asked him for a hug, or any type of public display of affection. So for him to hug Louis as if he was his own flesh and blood—it was something Louis had never experienced before, and to be honest, he was honored.

"I know I don't seem like the emotional type, Lou," Simon began, "But I see you five boys like my own children. And you need to know, as the oldest, that I'm always just a phone call away."

Louis nodded and smiled gratefully, believing Simon's words and squeezing his shoulder back. Simon hummed and retracted his arm from Louis' shoulder, but before he could return it fully, Louis grabbed his wrist, something shiny catching his eye.

"Simon," Louis said, pointing to the shiny wristband on Simon's wrist, "What is that?"

Simon pulled his arm back harshly, letting his sleeve cover up his wrist, "It's nothing you should be concerned about, Louis."

Louis shook his head and reached for his wrist, successfully grabbing it and pulling Simon's sleeve up, revealing the shiny wristband. Simon groaned and turned his head away in shame, or was it embarrassment. Louis couldn't tell, and at the present moment, he didn't care.

He examined the wrist band, noticing it immediately as a band from the hospital right up the road from the flat.

The hospital also matched the hospital statement Louis had gotten in the mail the day earlier.

It was also the hospital Harry was taken to before he—

"Why were you at Harry's hospital?"

Simon hesitated at first, before taking a shaky breath, "It's none of your concern—"

"To hell it isn't!" Louis exclaimed, "Why were you at the hospital?" Louis demanded an answer, his heart soaring, his mind racing to all types of conclusions.

Because really, why else would Simon be at a Hospital that was not even near his own flat? Louis lived a good two hours away from Simon—it just didn't make any sense. The only logical explanation would be that Simon was at the hospital because of Harry.

But why?

Harry was dead.

Louis gave Simon a stern look and repeated himself, "Why. Were. You. At. The. Hospital?" Louis had an excited glint in his eyes, and he knew it was because he was getting his hopes up. But he didn't care.

He had spent months watching everyone say Harry's name with a wary glance towards his direction. He had spent months watching people sadly move on from Harry and spent hours wondering why. He had spent all of this time wishing he could bring his best friend back.

These past few months were spent watching how everyone still didn't know how to act around him, even the boys. It was like he was standing in the middle of a pail of eggshells and no one knew how to reach him without making more of a fuss. Louis couldn't help himself—and he knew it as mostly his fault for putting the boys in that situation. It was just that he didn't know what to do or how to act or how to _survive_ without Harry.

But now? Now pieces of this never ending puzzle Louis was in may be coming together. Louis felt like he had a chance—a chance to add pieces to the puzzle. A chance to feel alive again. He may not be able to get Harry back—because he was dead—but now those questions he always wanted answered finally would be.

And who was Simon to deny him that opportunity, after the way he loved Harry?

Simon sighed and ran his fingers through his hair glaring at Louis. He hesitated again before speaking, "F—fine. I was getting tested and blood work done. It was standard procedure, Louis."

"Well then why did you hesitate telling me, then?" Louis returned harshly, his heart thumping in his chest.

"I don't like talking about hospitals, or any type of doctor's visit," Simon began, "And especially around you, Louis. You've already had to deal with so much; I've been worried about you." He paused and smiled sadly, "I don't want you to have to worry about me, too."

Louis let out a defeated sigh, but stayed triumphant and poked Simon, "I won't worry about you, Simon." He got a quick glance at the Hospital statement, making a mental note to stash that bill and any other hospital bills he may receive in the future. Louis smirked, watching as Simon swallowed a lump in his throat and tugged the collar of his shirt—a telling sign that he was lying.

Louis knew Simon was lying, and if he wasn't going to give him the truth?

Louis sighed. He was just going to have to find it out for himself.

He glanced back up at Simon, and smiled sweetly, "_And you won't have to worry about me anymore, either_."

Louis calls Simon and has him stop by the flat to pick up the mail.

Decides not to tell Simon about the statement, but asks him evasive questions about it.

"Simon, what's that on your wrist?" He covers it up, "It's nothing—"

"It looks like a hospital band…Simon…were you in the hospital?"

Simon smiled and shook his head, letting his sleeve cover the band, "Yes, of course I am fine—I just had a check-up, that's all." (really, Simon went to go see how Harry was progressing).


	6. Chapter Five

Louis had never had a dream feel so real before.

It was pitch black in the room he was in—the only source of light seemed to be coming from a spotlight that was directed to the center of a stage that was elevated almost to the ceiling of the (what seemed to be) 30 story building.

Louis realized he was on a platform that was also elevated at a tall height. He shuddered, but looked back up at the spotlight, and realized there was someone standing under it, and he knew it would only take one guess to figure out who it was.

"Harry?"

The curly haired boy didn't respond, instead, he lifted his head towards the light and stared at it, with an empty look in his eyes.

Louis sighed and looked around, trying to find a way to get to him. As his eyes scanned the room, he spotted a tall ladder leaning against another podium that led to the stage. He quickly ran over to it and began his climb.

As he reached the top of the podium, he heard Harry shift and look down, their eyes meeting. Louis smiled up at him, and Harry gave him a frightened look and then immediately turned back to the light, not even squinting when the sharp rays of the light hit his face.

Louis grunted and headed up another ladder that led to the stage, silently thanking God that Simon made the boys do daily workouts to increase their metabolism.

He panted as he reached the final bar of the ladder and climbed up to the stage, walking slowly over to Harry.

Louis smiled softly as he saw the light hitting Harry's face. It was almost as if he were…_glowing_. Every light that bounced off of him emitted a shine that was indescribable to him.

He looked like an angel.

Louis was too busy admiring Harry that he didn't realize he stepped on a creaky floorboard, which caused Harry to jump up in surprise,

"Who is there?"

"It's me," Louis whispered, "It's Louis."

Harry shielded his eyes from the light and looked toward the direction of Louis' voice.

Louis quickly made himself visible and reached out to grab Harry's hand. Harry pulled it back away from him, holding it and bringing it to his chest. He gave Louis an incredulous look and breathed,

"You…you can _see_ me?"

Louis' breath caught in his throat, and swallowed the thick lump in his throat, his voice full of fear, "Yes, of course I can. Why wouldn't I be able to?"

Harry looked back towards the light and shook his head, "This isn't what I thought it would be."

"What do you mean?" Louis went to reach for him again, but decided against it.

"You're not supposed to see me. I thought…this was _it_."

Louis was confused, "What is _it_?"

Harry sighed and turned his head, his eyes locking with Louis', "Isn't this where people go when they've gone?" He looked back towards the light, "Isn't a person's afterlife supposed to be a place they love?" A pause. "You're not supposed to be able to see me. I'm supposed to be invisible to everyone." He let out a harsh breath, "Even you."

Louis had a stone look about him. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he heard Harry's words.

_Afterlife._

So that meant…Harry was dead.

But, he'd never had a dream like this before. Harry was always _alive_ in his dream. Something wasn't right.

"I don't think this is your afterlife, Harry."

"Why not? I love this place. I love the stage. I love being here with you!" He smiled gratefully, "_It makes sense_." Louis shook his head and pointed to the spotlight,

"If this were your afterlife, you wouldn't be looking into a light trying to get there, would you?"

Harry smiled and looked back at the light, shrugging, "I guess you are right." He gave him a grand grin, "You're always right."

Louis smiled and held out his hand, and Harry cautiously took it, "Come on," Louis began, "Let's get off the stage."

Harry nodded hesitantly, taking a look back at the spotlight before Louis dragged him to the ladder.

Once Louis reached the end of the stage, he frowned and scratched his head, looking nervously around the grand room.

Alas, there was no ladder to be found.

Louis groaned and dropped Harry's hand, panic striking through him.

"Lou? What's the matter?"

Louis shook his head, "We can't get down from here," He turned around, "The ladder is gone."

Harry shrugged, "Well maybe it'll turn up again." He said hopefully.

Louis nodded, but he knew it wouldn't.

Harry noticed Louis' disdain, "…Or maybe it won't."

Louis laughed softly and Harry put a loving hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, "What do we do?" Louis asked.

Harry smiled warmly at Louis, and the answer came to him so simply, so fluidly, it scared the wits out of Louis, "We jump off of the stage, of course."

"_What_?"

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed excitedly, dragging Louis over to the edge of the stage, pointing downwards, "Don't you see, Louis! This is what I have to do! That's how I have to get there!"

"Get where?"

"_To my afterlife!"_

Louis felt his blood boil and he squeezed Harry's hand, dragging him away from the edge and pulling him towards him, so their bodies were inches from each other,

"Why are you doing this?" Louis asked, completely seething.

"Doing what?" Harry asked, his smile fading.

"Why do you always insist on leaving me? Why do have to do this, huh? Why do you have to jump off of a _fucking_ stage and plummet to your death?"

Harry frowned, and wiped a tear from Louis' eye that he didn't realize fell down his cheek. Harry cupped his face, letting this thumbs rub softly over his cheeks. Louis closed his eyes at his touch,

"Lou," He began, "I don't want to leave you, I _have_ to—"

"Why?" Louis whispered, his eyes pleading for him to stay.

"Because," Harry began, "I can't be here anymore. _Anywhere_. The beach, this stage—I can't anymore. I can't stand having to watch you watch me leave you. And," He looked towards the edge of the stage, "You need to…move on from me."

Louis opened his mouth to protest but Harry stopped him by gripping his face slightly harder, "You do. I love you _so much_, Louis. But you hanging onto me even after I'm gone isn't fair to you." He smiled softly, "As much as I love that you want me, and that you love me, and that you always will, you can't do that forever."

"Yes I can. I _will._" Louis interjected, his voice stern.

"No, I won't let you. I don't want you to suffer anymore—"

"I'LL STILL BE SUFFERING, HARRY! Don't you get it—I can't do anything without you. I can't be without you! You're everything!"

"Louis, please. I love you enough to let you go, so that you can be happy. I just want you to be happy." A pause. "Please, just be happy. You can be happy without me, my love." Harry said, caressing Louis' cheeks.

"I can't be happy without you, Harry."

Harry wiped his own eyes of his tears and let his hands go back to cupping Louis' face, letting his finger rub away his tears.

"Harry…"

His whisper was cut off by Harry's lips colliding with his own. Harry's hands continued to hold Louis' face, and Louis groaned, allowed Harry's tongue to plunge into his mouth.

Louis continued to kiss him back, his hands falling to Harry's waist, pulling him closer.

He loved this. He never wanted this to end. It was the most perfect kiss he had ever experienced. He put almost everything he could into that kiss, savoring the moment and wanting his mind to remember every press of Harry's lips to his own. He wanted to remember every feeling Harry had ever made him feel. He never wanted to forget them.

Because he knew soon enough, Harry would leave him again.

They broke apart, and Harry pressed their foreheads together. His hand went to finger Louis' hair, and Louis smiled, "How can you leave me now after that?"

Harry frowned and rested his hand on Louis' neck, "It's hard for me to," He looked into Louis' eyes and couldn't help but smile, "Because that was amazing—because _you_ are amazing."

Louis nodded, a glint of hope sweeping through him, though, the look in Harry's eyes convinced him to bury the hope deep into his core,

"But it's better for me if I leave…"

"No, Harry, please—"

Harry pressed a tender kiss to Louis' forehead, the tears that were falling down his cheek landing on Louis' hair. He let his lips linger on his skin as he whispered with a cracked voice,

"Goodbye, Louis."

"Don't go—"

"I must."

Harry released Louis quickly and before he knew it, he was standing at the edge of the stage.

Harry looked at Louis solemnly—like it would be the last time he would ever see Louis again.

"No…Harry…"

Harry turned back to look at the spotlight again. He closed his eyes, and Louis watched as a tear fell down his cheeks. Harry took another deep breath, took a step forward and leaned off of the stage—

"_Harry, NO_!"

And that was when Louis woke up.

* * *

><p>Louis woke up. As soon as he opened his eyes, he sat up and looked around, almost half expecting to see Harry sitting in the auditorium chair next to him.<p>

But he wasn't.

And for that, Louis was almost thankful.

Louis stretched his arms and let his back crack, deciding that maybe taking a power nap in the middle of rehearsal in an auditorium chair probably wasn't the best idea.

He stood up and immediately Niall, Zayn and Liam were surrounding him. Hands were rubbing his arms and face, and Louis had to push them away,

"What are you guys doing? What's the matter with you?"

The three boys gave each other nervous looks, and Zayn spoke, cautiously, "You…you were talking in your sleep, Lou."

The color from the eldest boy drained and he returned, "What…did I say?"

Liam spoke, his voice calm and soft, "You kept saying Harry's name. And you told him to stop leaving you…what is going on, Louis?"

Louis grunted, "_Nothing_ is going on. It was just a dream, it meant nothing—"

"Boys!" A voice came from the other side of the auditorium and the four boys turned around to come face to face with a smiling Simon Cowell.

Louis took a deep breath and smiled back, "Hello Simon."

"Why are you boys not rehearsing? You lot have a show in a few days! Come on, now. Get on the stage—I want to see what you boys have been doing these past few months. I hope you haven't been just hanging around and being childish fools!"

The four boys laughed and walked over to the stage, taking their marks and adjusting their microphone stands. Louis looked out into the empty auditorium, smiling a little bit. This was where he was supposed to be, and he knew it.

His thoughts were immediately drifted to Harry. Harry, the person he loved to share this stage with. Louis loved being on the stage, but he loved Harry more—and the fact that Harry wasn't here broke Louis' unfixable heart.

But as much as it killed him that Harry wasn't on stage with him, he needed to stay, because like continuing to live at the apartment, being on the stage gave Louis a connection to Harry.

And he would be damned if he was going to let _that_ go.

He saw Simon grinning at the four of them, and he waved his hand, which cured the bright spotlight to flash onto them.

Louis squinted when the light hit his face, and he shuddered, remembering the dream he had had.

He looked into the light, and saw that after a few moments, his eyes adjusted easily to it—he was so mesmerized by the light—by the thought of Harry standing under the light in his dream—that he almost missed his cue.

He and the boys began dancing in sync, and he walked up to the edge of the stage and continued to dance, singing along with the boys.

He took a step forward, and smiled at Liam, who returned the grin. However, after he looked down towards the edge of the stage, his face turned to one of horror,

"Louis! Look out!" Liam exclaimed.

Louis looked forward and cried out, realizing he had misjudged the length of his step. He ended up toppling over the edge of the stage, and hitting the floor with a loud BANG!

All he remembered was seeing the light—it's glow shining directly on him. It was so strong—it made him sweat, and it put him under pressure. It made him think of Harry, and all of his fucking dreams. He almost wanted the light to take him to Harry, to take him to wherever he went after he jumped off of the stage in his dream.

He just wanted to see him. To see him for real, and not be a figment of his imagination. And maybe convince him to stay and not leave him again

He didn't know what was happening, or what he was doing, or how suddenly he was in a pair of big, strong arms and was being lifted from the floor, but one thing he did know…

He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

Simon Cowell slammed his fist onto a marble counter, holding an envelope in one hand, and his cell phone in the other.

The receptionist at the counter, who was beyond startled, shuffled papers around and smiled weakly, "H—how can I help you?"

Simon lifted his sunglasses from his eyes and pushed them up to his forehead, he frowned at the short brunet, "I need to speak to Charlie."

The brunet gave him wide eyes, "Ch—charlie? But—but he won't let me take appointments—"

"Tell him it's Simon with an inquiry."

The brunet nodded in fear and stood up, rushing down a narrow hallway and knocking on the door at the end of it, on the left,

"Charlie? A mister Simon is here for you?"

Simon was unable to make out Charlie's reply, but he assumed it was positive, because the short brunet, who even with heels looked like a hobbit, walked back down the hallway and beckoned Simon forward,

"You can follow me."

Simon nodded and followed the woman to the end of the hallway. He smiled at her as he walked away, and he let himself into Charlie's office.

"Hello, Charlie."

Charlie, a stout man with a white moustache, turned around in his swivel chair and perched his glasses on his nose, "Simon Cowell. What brings you here?"

Simon slammed the envelope down on Charlie's desk, his eyes wide with fire.

"_This_, Charlie."

Charlie stared at the envelope and opened it, his eyes widening when he saw what was inside.

"Yes, I know. I've been sending you these bills—"

"No, Charlie. Look at the address."

Charlie flipped over the envelope and his eyes widened, "_Oh_."

"Yeah, oh." Simon said sarcastically.

Charlie took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his thumbs, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we made that mistake. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to get back from him."

Simon shook his head, "Not a problem at all, I was able to swipe it off of Louis' coffee table when I went over there the other day." He paused, "He saw my wrist band, too, Charlie."

Charlie nodded and motioned for Simon to take the seat in front of him and Simon obliged.

"I'm sorry about the bill, Simon. I'll make sure it gets sent to you and not to Louis' flat."

"Thank you," Simon said in relief.

Charlie continued, "But…don't you…don't you think it's time you told him?" He proceeded cautiously, being careful around Simon's well-known flaring temper.

Simon adjusted his tie and glanced up at Charlie, "Told who what?"

"Told Louis the truth." Charlie said bluntly.

Simon shook his head, "Absolutely not—"

"But it's been three months, Simon! I've seen the kid on T.V.—he doesn't look well at all! He seems damn miserable! I think everyone in the damn _country_ knows, just by the look of him! I think you owe it to him—"

"He's not ready to know! He won't handle it well. He needs more time." He stared at Charlie hard, "_He needs more time_, Charlie." He reiterated.

Charlie shook his head and sighed, "You're the boss man, and I'm just the bill sender. But I'm telling you, it's not fair to him."

Simon narrowed his eyes at him and stood up, "Stick to your job, Charlie. Make sure no more bills get sent to that flat. And I'll handle this my way. Understand?"

Charlie got up and nodded, following Simon out the door. The two men shook hands, but Charlie held on a bit longer.

"I know it's not my business, Cowell. But that's a kid you got there. A vulnerable kid. I know in your eyes he's part of your business, but you have to remember that too."

Simon, again, looked down at Charlie. Charlie did have a point—these boys were just entering adulthood—they had no idea what they were doing, and that's why Uncle Simon was there to guide them. And yes, though Louis was the oldest, he knew Louis was going through a rough time.

But he knew Louis wasn't ready. If his actions over the past few weeks were any indication, Simon didn't know if he would _ever_ be ready. None of the boys were, if he were being honest. But when it came to Louis…Simon was almost sure he never wanted Louis to know what was going on.

He didn't want to give Louis any type of false hope, because he knew Louis' feelings weren't going to go away.

Especially since the secret he held could potentially change his life.


	7. Chapter Six

**November 11****th**

Harry smiled softly as he flopped onto the couch, letting his head rest on Louis' lap. He stretched his legs so they took up the rest of the incredibly spacious couch.

He took a look around the grand living room and smiled, thankful he and Louis had finally moved into their bigger apartment. Thanks to Simon, they were able to move in on time without any type of complications. Which was a huge relief off of everyone's shoulders.

Harry smiled again as he felt Louis' fingers casually brushing over his scalp and through his thick curls.

"Long day, eh?" Louis breathed, letting his thumb rub gently over Harry's forehead when he smiled down at him.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Those rehearsals have been getting kinda brutal." He paused and made eye contact with Louis, "But I mean, it could be worse—I could be doing it alone."

Louis agreed, "Yeah, I'm just glad we have each other," He kissed Harry's forehead and Harry closed his eyes. Harry knew this act was very common between the two, but for the past few weeks, he couldn't help but feel like…there was something more with them.

And at first, Harry couldn't put his finger on it.

The adoring looks they gave each other, the way they always gravitated towards each other in a large crowd of people, the way their bodies always shifted so they matched each other's, the way they always had to find a reason to touch each other…

Then it hit him.

Louis was more than just a friend to him. He _always_ had been.

So for moments like these, where Louis touched him so intimately, Harry treasured them.

Because Harry, among many other things, was scared out of his damn mind.

He had never been so drawn to someone in his entire life. _Especially_ to a boy.

Sure, he had a few…flings at parties, but it was never anything like this before. He didn't know why it was happening to him now, or what he should do. All he did know was that it was happening.

However, he was terrified of addressing it.

Because addressing it meant that there was a good chance that in the end, he would get hurt. And the last thing he wanted was to have his heart broken.

So for now, he would keep silent.

Though, it was hard to when Louis kept kissing his forehead and his cheeks and playing with his hair…

Ugh, so irritating.

"Harry, lift your head?"

Harry looks up with an automatic hurt expression. He couldn't help it, "Why?"

Louis smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, sitting up straight and moving his legs so Harry would get up,

"I'm going to meet Eleanor for dinner." Louis smiled faintly and pocketed his phone, "I'm a bit late. But luckily, the restaurant is only down the road, so it'll be a quick walk."

He gently lifted Harry off of his lap and Harry rolled his eyes when Louis wouldn't notice.

_Eleanor._

Harry didn't have any reason to particularly dislike Eleanor—like he's mentioned before to the boys, she is the female version of Louis.

Harry had to smile; they were impeccably adorable. He could tell she made him happy. He loved seeing Louis smile. Then he frowned; He just wished it wasn't Eleanor Louis was taking out.

He groaned inwardly; he hated these conflicting feelings.

He hated liking Eleanor, because in reality, he only wanted Louis for himself—he didn't like to share.

But at the same time, he only wanted Louis to be happy, and if being with Eleanor made him happy, then so be it.

He sighed again. But then there were times that Harry wanted to fight for Louis—where he wanted to tell him everything he had been feeling. But then there was always that voice in the back of his head that stopped him—that told him he was only going to get hurt.

But right now, as Louis was picking up his jacket off of the counter, Harry had the sudden urge to kick down his walls and pull out his guns. If there was one thing Harry disliked most about Louis dating Eleanor, it was the feeling he got when Louis chose Eleanor over him.

It felt like a bullet was going through his veins every time.

"Alright, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his hands and gave his friend a quizzical look, "Yeah I'm—actually, no, I'm not."

Louis shot him a concerned look and put his jacket over a lounge chair, "What's the matter?"

Harry sighed. _Should I do this? Is now really the time?_ He looked back into Louis' beautiful eyes and felt a hard thumping in his chest.

_Yes, yes I should._

"Lou, have…have you ever been in love?"

Louis' brows shot up in surprise. To be honest, he didn't know how to answer that question, because, well…he felt his answer might scare the younger singer.

Because truth be told, Louis has loved people before. There was Hannah, the girl he thought he was going to be with forever. There was Eleanor, a person he did love and cared deeply for.

But then there was Harry.

Louis knew there was a distinction between loving someone and being _in_ love—however, he didn't understand the distinction between the two until he met Harry.

Louis sighed. He had known for a while he was in love with Harry Styles—he also knew revealing that information would be a _huge_ risk.

He always came so close to telling him, though. There were time where they would just stare at each other, and it was almost like there was an understanding between them. It was like they were saying, "I love you," to each other with just the lock of their eyes.

But Louis thought he was the only one who saw that.

Louis sighed and stared back at an expectant Harry. He decided to avoid the question and answer with another one,

"Why do you ask?"

Harry groaned inwardly. He _would_ answer his question with a question. Typical Louis!

"Well," Harry stuttered, standing up and making his way over to Louis, "I—I—" He choked on his words. All of what he was going to say sounded better in his head than it did out loud! "Louis," He began again…but he stopped. He was already at this point, he might as well just spit everything out.

Fuck all of the rules. Fuck the voice in the back of his head. He may never get this chance again. He needed to take advantage of this moment, because it was now or never.

"Louis," He started again, smiling out of sheer nervousness, "I don't want you to go."

Louis smiled and kissed Harry's cheek, "I'm not going anywhere far, love. I'll be back soon—"

"No!" Harry protested, grabbing for Louis' arm as he reached back for his coat.

"Harry, what is the matter with you?" He asked as he snatched his arm from Harry's grasp. Louis didn't know what was going on with Harry. He was so confused. Why was he suddenly asking him to stay? Did he…?

Harry frowned, "Nothing. I just—I hate when you leave me. Why do you always have to leave me…to be with _her_?"

Louis' heart stopped cold for a millisecond of time. Was Harry…jealous of the time he got to spend with Eleanor?

See, but Louis wasn't sure what this meant. Did this mean Harry missed having someone around the house because he got lonely?

Or…did Harry miss _him_, specifically?

"Harry," Louis began slowly, "She's…she's my girlfriend," He almost cringed at the words, wishing they weren't true, "I have to spend time with her. You understand, don't you? I mean, you always have your string of girls coming in and out of here, right?" Louis added, trying to lighten the mood.

By the look on Harry's face, it did everything but that.

"What are you trying to say? Louis, those girls don't mean anything to me! The only person who means anything to me is—"

Harry stopped himself before he got any further. He should have listened to the voice in the back of his head—he wasn't going to win this one. He wasn't going to win Louis.

Harry took a step back and inhaled a sharp breath. Louis gave him a questioning look in response, still trying to understand what exactly was going on.

"Harry, what were you going to say?" Louis asked, urging him on. Louis wished Harry would give him a straight answer, because if he did, he would love to tell him that he would leave Eleanor in a heartbeat.

"Nothing, Louis. Just…forget about it. Go on and go out with Eleanor. You…you are happy. And really, that's all I want from you." Harry whimpered to himself, feeling his chest tighten and his throat begin to close. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. He refused to cry in front of Louis. He wished none of this was happening.

He needed to get out of the flat.

He searched frantically around until he made a beeline for the key hook. As he walked past Louis he spoke, "You're walking to meet Eleanor right? You won't mind if I take the car, do you?"

"What?" Louis asked, completely baffled.

Harry groaned, "Your car, Louis. I want. To drive. Your car." He was getting irritated very quickly, and it was all out of embarrassment. He should have known better than to try to get things going with Louis. What was he thinking? He was crazy and stupid to think for a second Louis would ever feel what he was feeling.

Completely idiotic.

Louis shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. No. He wasn't going to let Harry leave. If Harry wasn't going to fight for this, then fuck it all, _he_ would!

"Harry, please, _don't leave_. Talk to me. Just…tell me what you are thinking—"

"Trust me, it's nothing worth discussing." Harry gave his friend a sad look and returned back to the key hook and grabbed Louis' car keys off of the hook.

"Harry," Louis said cautiously, seeing Harry's actions, "Don't leave. You shouldn't drive; you don't have your license." He added sternly.

"Didn't stop you from letting me drive before, did it?" Harry interjected giving Louis a condescending look.

"Stop it!" Louis exclaimed, trying to get through to the boy, "Just come back, and talk to me. _Don't leave me_." Louis felt like he was pathetic for begging, but he didn't care. Harry was like a brick wall when he was stubborn, and it was hard to get through to him.

Harry turned on his heel slowly and shot Louis a look, "Why not? You leave me all of the time. _With Eleanor_." He added with a slight sneer.

Before Louis had a chance to respond, Harry fled from the flat, leaving a dumbfounded Louis in the darkness of the living room.

It was moments later that a neighbor would see Louis frantically searching the streets for Harry, and eventually coming to terms with the fact that Harry wouldn't be back for a while.

Little did Louis know that watching Harry leave would be the last time he would ever see the curly haired boy alive again.

* * *

><p>February 12th<p>

Reporter: Anna Bailey

**HARRY STYLES DIES IN TRAGIC CAR ACCIDENT**

_It is a tragic thing, when the world loses a great persona of talent. Unfortunately, it is with a heavy heart that I report the death of Harry Styles, one of the beloved members of the popular boy band One Direction. _

_Last night, at about 10:30 P.M., the singer, driving a car illegally (Styles was only 17, and did not possess a license), swerved too fast on a one way lane, the car he was driving slamming right into the trunk of a tree. The car wrapped around it, leaving the boy dying directly on impact. _

_From the medical reports, his head collided immediately with the steering wheel, which is the main cause of the death. There was severe bleeding in his brain as well as massive brain damage from the crash._

_Along with the brain damage, unfortunately, the driver's car door was pushed so far in because of the impact, the door punctured Harry's abdomen, which added to his injuries. _

_The 17 year old is survived by his mother, Anne, who when asked for an interview, shook her head and walked solemnly away from the crime scene. He is survived by his step-father, sister, the remaining four members of One Direction, and the millions of fans that love and supported him throughout his short lived career._

_Our publications give our sincere condolences to Harry's friends and family. _

~A. Bailey

* * *

><p>Zayn Malik groaned as he followed the gurney carrying Louis' concussed body into the Emergency Room doors.<p>

He looked around the grand room, taking in the bare white walls and the amount of chaos that was taking place in the room.

Zayn turned to Niall, who noticed his discomfort and held out his hand. Zayn graciously took it and felt his body ease a bit when their skin touched.

If there was one thing Zayn incredibly despised, it was hospitals.

Because for him, being at a hospital never ended well.

Zayn already lost Harry, one of his best friends in the entire world, and he was not prepared to another one.

Niall squeezed his hand again—a sign that he should follow him—and Zayn did so with cautious steps, his heart beating a mile a minute. He knew Louis only had a concussion, but the thought of him being in a hospital, where Harry was officially pronounced dead, really did scare him.

Niall dragged him into a small room, and the blonde smiled gratefully up at the dark haired boy.

"Zayn, Louis is awake!"

Zayn dropped Niall's hand immediately and strode up to the oldest band member. Louis looked up and gave him a small smile, but before he had a chance to speak, he felt Zayn's strong arms wrap around him. Zayn dug his face into the crook of his neck, the sobs escaping from his throat fast.

"L—Louis, I—I—I'm so glad you're okay—"

Louis, still taken aback by his reaction, lightly patted his back, "I'm okay, Zayn. Really, I'm fine. Just a mild concussion, that's all."

Zayn shook his head and continued to sob, gripping Louis and bringing him closer to him.

"I was afraid you would die too, just like Harry." Zayn continued to sob, and Louis glanced up at Niall, whose eyes were starting to become wet with his own light tears. Liam, who had watched the whole ordeal form a sitting chair next to Louis' bed, stood up and put a hard hand on Zayn's shoulder.

Zayn released Louis and shot an understanding look to Liam. Liam, ever the father figure, nodded his head towards Louis and smiled softly, "Go on, Zayn." He muttered, before guiding Niall by his shoulder, "Zayn needs a minute, Niall."

Niall understood and followed Liam out of the room, leaving just Zayn and Louis in the room. Louis looked from the door to Zayn and sighed.

He remembered the last fight they had, and how awful it had been. Though they both had gotten over it very quickly, it was one of those things where it wasn't forgotten. And with their busy schedules, they didn't really get a chance to talk about it, other than a quick but heartfelt 'I'm sorry' to each other when they were together the next day.

Zayn grabbed Louis' hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles, which caused Louis to shudder slightly—that was something Harry always did when he was about to apologize.

"Louis, I'm…I'm so sorry for that day. When I freaked out on you," He paused to rub tears from his eyes, and then continued, "I think I was so mad at you, because I was mad at myself, too." He gave Louis a grateful smile, "Because I still haven't gotten over what happened either. I think about it all the time. I think about him and how happy we all were. I just feel…bad that I don't express my feelings like you do. So openly."

Louis sighed heavily. He wasn't mad at Zayn anymore, but the fact that he was coming to him like this…well he really didn't know how to take it. He was getting nervous, because he was afraid of where this conversation was going to go. He knew Zayn would bring up Harry, and to be honest, he wasn't really up for yet another discussion on his feelings towards him.

Especially not after the dream he had.

Zayn only confirmed Louis' suspicions when he began to talk again, "I know you loved Harry, Lou. More than any of us did. I know it was a different kind of love—"

"Does everyone know, Zayn? Do they all know that I…I love him?" Louis asked tiredly, "Tell me."

Zayn nodded simply, "Yes. It was quite obvious, Lou." Louis rolled his eyes and put his face in his hands, groaning.

Zayn laughed and rubbed Louis' back softly, "I'm surprised it's taken you this long to realize we all know. When Harry was alive…it was very hard to ignore you two." He looked at Louis and smiled, rubbing the top of his head lovingly, "And Louis, we don't care! I mean…of course we _care_, but it's not negative. We, the boys and I, actually love that you two loved each other the way you did. We are so pleased you found someone who made you so happy, Louis. Someone who…completed you the way Harry did. Honestly, it was like he was the missing piece to the puzzle that is Louis Tomlinson." At this Louis chuckled and Zayn continued,

"I think what it was for everyone," Zayn began, "Was the fact that you two sort of…moved together. Does that make sense? Like, when one of you moved, or shifted position, the other would move so that you two matched." He smiled and shook his head, "It was almost like gravity was pulling you two together."

Louis nodded and ran a hand through his hair. Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that. He also wasn't expecting the sudden feeling of regret that washed over him.

He regretted ever letting Harry leave the flat that night. He regretted letting Harry drive his car that one time. He regretted not being more careful.

But most of all, he regretted not telling Harry about how he felt while he was alive. Because now he would never get the chance to do that. He would never get the chance to be able to love Harry without having to hide it. He would never get the chance to express his feelings openly. Which is something he longed to do.

Zayn shook Louis' shoulder, trying to get the concussed boy out of his train of thought,

"Louis?"

Louis glanced up at Zayn with pleading eyes, and Zayn took this as a sign to leave,

"Right. Okay. You want to be alone then, right?"

"It's nothing against you, Zayn. I just…I'm having a moment."

Zayn chuckled and pressed his lips to Louis' cheek. He pecked it lightly and pulled away, "Alright, well. The boys and I will head off then. We will be back tomorrow, yeah?"

Louis nodded gratefully, "Yeah, that sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," Zayn began to walk out, but when he reached the door, he turned around to face Louis, "I love you, Louis."

Louis grinned, "I love you too."

Zayn grinned back and left the room quickly, and Louis let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in.

After a few moments of sitting and reflecting, one of Louis' nurses came in,

"Hello, Mr. Tomlinson, I just came to remind you that you need to do a bit of walking and breathing, to make sure your brain gets oxygen," She grinned, "Plus, I'm sure a busy boy like you could make do with a bit of a stretch."

Louis sighed gratefully, "Yes, that would be lovely."

The nurse, a pretty, petite woman with short blonde hair, helped Louis out of the bed and onto his feet. Louis studied the woman in front of him—she kept giving him a look, a look he couldn't describe.

Weird.

She led him out of the hospital room, and with one arm wrapped around his waist, she walked with him down the long white-walled hallway.

"So, you had a lot of visitors today." She said bluntly.

"That I did," Louis said with a laugh.

"Those boys must really care about you," The blonde chuckled a bit to herself, "A lot!"

"They really do, I love them all to death. They are like my brothers—no, they are my brothers."

The blonde nodded and looked around nervously, which Louis thought was odd. He looked around as well, trying to figure out what she was trying to catch her eye on.

"Are you alright?" He asked cautiously.

She snapped her head towards him, with her eyes wide and worried. She tried to compose herself, but Louis was too sharp—he knew something was up, "Yes, yes I am fine. I think we need to turn a corner here—"

Louis looked down to where her perfectly manicured finger was pointing, and he shook his head, reading the label above the double doors that led to another hallway,

"Why would we go down to the surgical center?" Louis asked curiously as the small woman continued to turn him down the hallway. Louis skidded on his heels and turned around, only to see the woman looking away from a single door that was at the end of the corridor Louis' room was in.

"What are you looking at?" Louis asked, heading over to the door.

"Nothing!" The woman cried, grabbing his arm and directing him toward the other wing. Louis tried to look back towards the door, but the woman diverted his attention again by pulling him closer to her.

And then, almost as quickly as she had pulled his arm, she released him, for her pager went off loudly.

"Damn!" She cussed loudly, looking at the pager and groaning, letting her head fall back in defeat.

She looked back to Louis, who simply looked at her innocently, "I'm sorry, Mr. Tomlinson, I have to go to a Code Blue…Let me take you back—"

"No!" Louis interjected, "I'm fine, really. You go. I can do it on my own. I have a mild concussion, not an aneurism." He added a smirk that gained an eye roll from the nurse.

"Fine, just... go straight there, alright? Don't go…heading to places where you are not supposed to. Do you hear?"

Louis gave her his charming smile and nodded, "Of course."

The nurse nodded and waved him away, suddenly not concerned for him anymore, and she sprinted down a hallway that was labeled "Urgent Care." Louis shrugged and looked back to the door she was trying so hard for him to avoid.

He looked around and saw his hall was completely deserted save for a janitor and a secretary who was close to falling asleep on the charts she was reviewing.

Louis shrugged and made his way over to the door, still wondering what the hell could be in there that the nurse would not want to be seen.

He made his way towards the door, but stopped immediately when he saw the name of the patient on the door.

No…

No…

**No.**

_It couldn't be_.

Louis' heart stopped. His brain suddenly felt like jelly. If his stomach could drop, it would fall to the floor and never come back up. He felt his knees give out and his senses were starting to fail. But just before he felt his eyes roll to the back of his head and he hit the floor, he was able to catch another glimpse of the name that was printed on the door.

_Harry Styles._


	8. Chapter Seven

"_Jump with me_."

The milky white hand was extended towards him, and the boy stared at it, shaking his head.

"No."

"Why not?" The way the voice sounded so angelic made him look up and almost smile.

Then he remembered the circumstances.

"Because if you jump, you _die_."

The boy with curly hair, who had been staring down from the edge of the stage (and the high altitude they were at), turned away to look at the boy who was now holding his hand. He gave him a toothy grin, and without hesitation said,

"Yes, but if _you_ jump with _me_, you can die too. Don't you see? We can die together. We can _be_ together."

Louis let out a harsh breath and stood closer to Harry. He allowed himself to look down along with Harry.

And he was surprised to see that he wasn't scared. In fact, he was intrigued; What if he did jump? How would it feel? What would happen then? Would he still be with Harry?

He wasn't too sure.

But he also thought of the upsides, in a way. If he died, he didn't have to be miserable missing Harry. If he died, he realized, he'd be okay, because really…living without Harry was so horrible it couldn't be put into words. So, maybe dying would relieve him of the pain he had been feeling every day since Harry died.

He felt Harry's grip tighten on his hand and he looked up to see bright light eyes shining at him.

"Are you coming with me?"

Louis couldn't bring himself to speak—it was as if his voice box was locked and he couldn't find the key to open it.

"Will you come with me?" Harry pleaded.

Before Louis could open his mouth to try to produce a sound, Harry released his hand and walked closer to the edge, "Fine, you don't want to come. It wasn't fair of me to ask that of you." He gave Louis a solemn look, "I'm sorry."

Then he jumped.

* * *

><p>"It's really not that scary, you know."<p>

"What isn't?"

"Dying."

Louis stared at him and blinked, "It isn't scary? It looks terrifying."

Harry smiled softly, "Depends which way you look at it."

"How so?"

"Well, if you look at it like you won't get anything out of it, it is scary. Because…" He paused to think of the right words, "Because then everything is over."

Louis nodded and Harry continued,

"But, I look at it differently. I see it as…someplace new. Someplace I haven't been before. I go to a different place each time. But," He gave Louis a sad look, "I always go alone, and I know I say it's great, but to go alone…that's really scary." He paused and looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers before looking back up into Louis' eyes, "I never know what's going to happen to me." Harry finished, letting out a shaky breath.

"Harry…" Louis said cautiously.

"Come on, Lou." Harry practically begged, letting his hands grasp Louis', "Why won't you come with me?"

"Because I'm not prepared to die." Louis said, so simply it surprised himself.

"Even if it was with me? Louis, I'd never ask you to do something if I knew you couldn't handle it! You can do this—we both can."

Louis gave a sympathetic look to Harry and kissed the top of his head, "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry looked up at him, their eyes meeting and piercing each other, "Me too." Harry whispered.

And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>"What's it like?"<p>

"What is what like, Lou?"

"Jumping. Dying. The whole thing."

"I already told you it isn't scary—"

"I'm talking about what happens after."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, it's not too bad." He paused and shivered, "It'd be better if you saw it for yourself, Louis. If you joined me."

"I don't know if I can do that."

Harry looked down in shame, but chuckled, "That's your answer every time."

"I love you, Louis."

"I love you too."

"Jump with me, then."

"It's not that easy."

"_It's the simple act of jumping_—"

"It's not the jumping I'm worried about, it's what happens after."

"But I'll be with you."

"I know—"

"I don't like going alone—"

"So don't go! Don't jump. Just stay—"

"I just want you to be with me—"

"Harry—"

"I hate being there alone. It's scary to go there by myself. I'll feel safer with you—"

"I know."

"—And what does it matter if you leave everyone behind?" Harry asked, "You'll be with me. And I'll be with you. You are all that I care for."

"Harry…"

"I know it's hard for you. But can't you just do this one thing for me?"

Louis stared at Harry, the pit of his stomach dropping and his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

_What should I do?_

"Please, Louis, do this for me."

When Louis didn't respond, and Harry's lips broke into a frown, something…odd started to happen.

Harry started to glow.

Louis stood up with Harry, and the younger boy began to panic, "What—what is happening to me?"

Louis gripped his shoulders, trying to see where the sudden light surrounding his body was coming from, "I—I don't know!"

Then suddenly, as if Harry had a string attached to him and someone had the other end of it, Harry was being physically pulled away from Louis.

"Louis!" Harry held his hands out so Louis could grab them, but Louis was too slow.

Harry shot Louis a scared look, and Louis started running after Harry, who kept being pulled into pitches of darkness. If it weren't for the glow around him, Louis would never be able to find him.

"Harry! Come back! Come back!"

"I can't! I don't—_someone is pulling me_!"

"What do I do?" Louis cried, still running towards Harry. He felt he would get mere inches from him, but in the blink of an eye, it seemed Harry was miles away, still being pulled into darkness.

"I don't know!"

"Harry! I'll—I'll go with you! Just try and come back to me!" Louis cried this out of fear. He knew going and jumping with Harry probably wasn't the best idea, but he felt as though saying the words out loud, like Harry had been pleading him to do, would save Harry from being taken away.

"I'll take the jump, Harry!" Louis cried desperately as he kept running and reaching for Harry's outstretched arms, "I'll _JUMP_!"

But it was too late. Harry had completely vanished from Louis' sight. Every direction he turned, Harry couldn't be seen or heard anymore.

Louis stared at the spot where he last saw Harry, feeling his throat close and his voice crack as he whispered, _"I'll go with you."_

* * *

><p>Louis woke up to darkness. He sat up in what he realized was his uncomfortable hospital bed and flicked on the night table lamp. When the room was lit up, Louis' eyes adjusted.<p>

His eyes widened when saw who was sitting in the chair next to his bed; the man's hands were folded on his bed and his face leaning on his arms. It looked as though he were in a painful sleeping position.

"_S—Simon_?"

Simon Cowell sat up quickly, a quick snore emitting from him as he did so. He gave Louis a groggy look and rubbed his eyes,

"'Ello Lou."

"What are you doing here? Is…is everything okay? " Louis asked warily, giving him an anxious look. Louis was worried. Had he done something wrong? Did Zayn have to fly home for another family emergency? Was someone else hurt? Why else would Simon Cowell be here in the middle of the night sleeping at his bed side. He knew Simon managed him and the boys, and loved them all dearly, but he also knew he was a busy man. And the fact that he was here at all concerned him.

Simon sighed and leaned forward, letting his hands fold on the edge of Louis' bed, "Well Lou, you passed out at the end of the hallway during your routine walk this afternoon. Don't you remember?

Louis nodded right away. How could he forget he fainted? More importantly, he couldn't forget why he had fainted.

Harry.

"I need to go, right away. Sorry Simon—" Louis began, lifting the bed sheets off of himself and trying to swing his legs over the edge of the bed."

"Not so fast, Louis." Simon said sternly, putting a steady hand on Louis' arm. "Lay back down. We have some things to discuss."

Louis slowly crept back into his bed, his eyes never leaving Simon's tired form. When he was settled, Simon spoke,

"Why were you at the end of the hallway?"

Louis took a deep breath and let it out. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Simon what he saw. What if he thought he was crazy?

What if he _was_ crazy?

Nonetheless, he knew Simon was waiting for an answer, and at the present moment, his brain couldn't conjure up anything but the truth.

"I was there because I saw Harry's name on a door, and..." He paused, feeling somewhat lame, "I thought he was inside the room." He looked back at Simon, who was staring at him with his mouth gaping open,

"It was stupid, I know. I mean, it's kind of a common name—" Louis began rambling, and Simon continued to stare at him.

Simon couldn't believe what he had just heard. How so easily, everything he had worked so hard to conceal from Louis had been exposed to him in a matter of what seemed to be minutes.

Shit.

He was fucked.

Maybe Charlie was right—maybe he needed to tell Louis the truth. Maybe he needed to know. Simon had to be true to himself, and he could see that Louis was completely miserable. He also knew, based on the look off of Louis' face whenever he talked or thought about Harry, that Louis was having a hard trouble making it through the day without his other half.

So it was because of this that Simon decided enough was enough, and that he had to tell Louis the truth.

"Louis." Simon interjected.

"Yes…?" Louis asked slowly, a bit confused.

"We are going to take a walk."

Simon offered Louis his hand and the younger boy took it cautiously, easing out of the bed and following Simon out of the room and towards the end of the hall.

"Where are we going?" Louis asked.

Simon smirked, "Where do you think we are going?"

Louis didn't answer, because he knew what he wanted his answer to be, but he was terrified to say it.

Nonetheless, Simon led Louis to the end of the hallway, where the door with Harry's name sat.

Simon led him to that door and stood in front of it, before turning around with shameful eyes,

"Louis, I am…so sorry I didn't tell you this earlier. I just…I was trying to protect you, and the boys, and Harry. I didn't think about your feelings. I didn't think about anything but your protection. It pains me that all of your suffering and misery could have been avoided, but, try and understand that I did what I had to for your benefit."

Louis nodded and smiled wearily at Simon and watched as he opened the door to the room.

Louis followed Simon into the mundane hospital room, his eyes focusing on the bed that sat perpendicular to the far right wall.

His eyes couldn't believe what he saw. His heart leapt and his legs almost gave out, and yet suddenly, the world seemed so much brighter to him—brighter than it had ever been before.

For lying in the hospital bed, with a life support machine and IVs wired to his arm, was the boy he loved.

Harry Styles was lying on the hospital bed. And he was _breathing_.

And Louis was pretty sure he wasn't dreaming.

"He isn't dead." Louis whispered to Simon, making his was quickly over to Harry and trying to figure out what to do with his hands. He wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to wake him up. But he…didn't know what to do first.

Just by seeing Harry for real, and not in a dream, made Louis feel complete. It was as if the past three months, Louis had been a shattered vase that couldn't be put back together. But after seeing Harry, Louis knew those pieces that he thought couldn't be repaired were now pieced back together by a force that could never be broken down ever again.

Knowing Harry was alive, Louis felt _indestructible_.

Louis let his eyes trace every curve of Harry's lying form. His fingers found their way to the soft curls on top of his head. He let out a breath as if to say, "I can't believe he's here." The familiarity of Harry's face, touch, and smell brought back memories he had been harboring in his mind for the past three months.

He felt _alive_ again.

His fingers continued to travel along Harry's face, down his jaw line, and straight to his heart. Louis' hand hovered over Harry's heart, and he realized he was hesitant to let it rest there.

He hated to even think it, but there was a part of him that thought this was too good to be true. That maybe it really _was _a dream, and it all just felt too real. That maybe lying here in this bed was really a dead Harry playing a trick on him. Or a Harry who would wake up and beg him to take a leap for him.

Louis exhaled and decided to bite the bullet. Figuring he would never know for sure unless he tried it. He let his hand rest on top of Harry's heart and his heart began to thump wildly in his chest.

Louis' frown turned to a tearful smile when he felt Harry's heart beat in time with his. Their hearts were beating together, in time with each other. It was as if they were connected in some way—like one heart being shared between two people.

Louis wiped away the fresh tears that were springing from his eyes. Yes. _Yes._ So there is a God.

Harry Styles has a beating heart. A live heart. Harry was _here_.

"Technically, yes. Harry is alive." Simon said softly, walking up behind Louis and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "But barely. The life support machine is keeping his brain alive. He…he hasn't woken up since the accident."

Louis was only half listening to what Simon was saying. He knew he should be pissed off at Simon for keeping this from him—for lying to him. But none of that mattered now, because Harry being fucking alive was all that mattered to him.

This was his chance. Louis had a chance to save Harry. To wake him up. He took this as a sign—a sign for him to do what he couldn't do before.

A sign for him to save Harry.

But…how?

"The doctors say they have hope, but they haven't said that his condition is getting better…" Simon continued, completely oblivious to the fact that Louis was spacing out.

How was Louis supposed to save Harry? He wasn't a doctor, and he certainly wasn't bright enough to be one.

He could always sing to Harry. He read somewhere that music could heal patients who were brain dead.

However, Louis immediately shook away that thought. Harry isn't brain dead. His brain is actually working.

He just wasn't waking up.

Louis sighed. He could always kiss Harry, and maybe that would wake him up.

He mentally slapped himself mere seconds after the thought. _Get a grip, Louis! This isn't some Disney fairytale! Get yourself together!_

"It just looks like he's sleeping." Simon said dreamily, staring down at the youngest band member.

And suddenly, after he heard the words slip from Simon's lips, Louis knew—he knew how to save Harry. He was surprised it didn't come to him sooner.

He knew it was crazy, and it was only something you would read in a story. But he had a feeling… a gut feeling that this would work.

If there was any type of God, Louis knew this would work.

Louis looked up to Simon, who was still rambling, and gave him a big smile. Simon couldn't help but return the infectious smile,

"What are you on about?"

Louis grinned as the plan he was formulating in his head making complete sense. There was no flaw in it, he could just see it working.

"I have a plan. A plan on how to wake up Harry."

Simon rolled his eyes, "Oh really, and what do you expect to do?"

Louis shook his head, "I can't tell you."

"Why is that."

"Because then you won't let me do it."

Simon crossed his arms, "Well then there is no way in hell I am letting you do anything."

"Simon, please. If you have any respect for me at all, you will let me do this. I won't be harming anyone or using anything. It'll just be me here. You just…have to trust me."

Simon glanced at the boy pleading in front of him. He was crazy to even think for a moment that Louis was onto something.

But, at the same time, no one else was doing anything. And if he trusted any of the boys alone with Harry, he knew he could trust Louis the most.

Louis continued to give Simon his famous imploring eyes, and Simon groaned, rubbing his eyes,

"Okay, yes, okay, I trust you."

Louis beamed and Simon continued,

"I just hope it works."


	9. Chapter Eight

"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes Simon," Louis drawled for what he felt was the umpteenth time, "I am positive."

"And _why_ can't you tell me what you are doing again?"

Louis laughed a bit, following Simon down the hallway to Harry's room while carrying the supplies he needed. It was three days after Louis had known that Harry was alive. And since then, Simon hovered him like a hawk—making sure he didn't repeat what he saw to anyone, not even the boys.

It was hard to Louis to keep this secret from them, but at the same time, Simon promised him that if he kept his mouth shut, he would be able to try and wake Harry up.

So for Louis, he was able to manage to keep his big mouth quiet.

"Because," Louis began as he opened the door to the room, "You'll think I'm going crazy."

"I _already_ think you've gone crazy, Louis." Simon pointed out with a joking smile, which faded quickly, "I'm afraid that you are getting your hopes up too high."

Louis sighed in frustration. Of course Simon would think that. Louis really couldn't take having someone doubting him right now. It was taking everything in his being to convince himself that this would work. If he had any sense of doubt at the last minute, he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with his plan.

And he was not about to let that happen.

"Well," Louis began, "What's the world without too much hope? People need hope, Simon. Some people only rely on hope. They need something to live for."

"I know that," Simon stated, "I'm just saying…I hope you're not living only for this, where there is so much else to live for. I just want to make sure you know what you are getting yourself into!"

"Simon," Louis began, sounding a bit annoyed, "I thought you said you trusted me."

"I do—"

"Then why are you questioning me? You said I could do this. You said I could try. Please just…let me try."

Simon sighed. He hated seeing Louis, or any of the other boys for that matter, so distraught. But he had a right to be concerned:

First off, Louis hadn't spoken to anyone since he had found out about Harry being alive. He simply stared off into space, and would answer questions with a short nod or a one word answer.

Completely unlike Louis.

Secondly, this 'plan' Louis had seemed a bit dodgy to him. Why did it need to be kept secret? Why couldn't he tell him what was going on?

Thirdly, what did sleeping medications have to do with this?

"Will you at least tell me what you are going to do with that?" Simon asked pointing to the two bottles Louis was holding in his hands.

Louis frowned at the older man, not appreciating all of his questions, "If I tell you, that gives away my entire plan. And I told you I am not going to tell you that."

"Why can't you let me help you?"

Louis groaned, "Simon, this isn't really your problem to fix."

"And who says it's yours? You're 20 years old. You are an entertainer, not a doctor! You don't know—"

"Who cares if I'm a doctor? Simon, I can't…I can't keep living my life without knowing what would have happened if I had tried to wake up Harry. If I had given myself a chance to do this. So please, I beg of you, will you please leave me alone with Harry so I can get this going? I don't think I have a lot of time."

Simon sulked, letting his high tension shoulders lower themselves as he glanced at Louis. He could tell by the sincerity in Louis' eyes that Louis wasn't going to give up. He wanted to do this. Simon knew that Louis loved the boy lying in the hospital bed with everything he had. He was willing to risk everything just to see if he could wake him up. If that wasn't love, Simon didn't know what was.

And honestly, who was he to stop Louis from trying to get the person he loved to wake up?

Simon looked at Louis again and nodded, taking a few steps towards the door that led to the hallway, "Okay, Louis. Alright. I'll let you be. Just…promise me you're not going to hurt yourself, or Harry. Please, I just want you to be safe."

Louis smirked at Simon, knowing his plan could potentially break all of those promises. However, he nodded and waved at Simon.

"I promise."

"Okay. I'll be in the waiting room."

With those words and a half smile, Simon left the room, leaving Louis alone with Harry.

The older boy turned around to let his eyes graze on the boy lying in the bed, completely unaware that he was even in the room. He sighed sadly and made his way over to the bed.

He knew there was no way he was going to die. He knew that was for certain.

But he also knew that if Harry didn't wake up—if his plan failed—then really…what was the point of him even trying to be happy in the first place?

He glanced back at Harry. He knew he needed to do this. No matter what the outcome, he knew he needed to try.

On the table next to Harry's bed were all of the essentials Louis would need. He took a deep breath and let it out—it was now or never.

He walked slowly over to the side table, looking down at the small bottle of sleeping pills and the liquid cold medication that sat next to the bottle.

He groaned. Yes, he knew he'd have to be completely knocked out if he wanted this to work. He'd have to be completely numb—so that way no outside force could wake him.

Just like no outside force was able to wake Harry up.

Louis looked from the table to Harry, and allowed himself to stare at him for a few more moments.

God, he was so beautiful.

He was…such a peaceful sleeper.

Louis leaned across the bed so he could drag his fingers down the curves of Harry's face. Harry's skin was cold, but there was also a sense of familiar warmth when Louis touched him, which caused chills to crawl up and down his spine.

"It's alright Harry," Louis whispered, "You're going to wake up." He looked Harry up and down, humming to himself.

"What's going to happen will probably be scary, but you have to trust me. I—I know you probably can't hear me right now, but I'm hoping you will trust me."

Louis exhaled softly, and let his hand run over Harry's soft curls, "Okay Hazza, I'm…I'm going to try and wake you up now."

Louis sighed and allowed himself to lay right next to Harry on the small hospital bed. He took a sharp breath and grabbed Harry's hand, letting his fingers fall easily between Harry's. Louis rubbed one of Harry's knuckles and savored the feeling of the soft skin against his thumb.

God, he had missed the feel of Harry so much. He thought he had forgotten it, but once their skin touched, the familiarity of it flooded back into him, as if it had never left.

He looked at the small cup of liquid that sat at the edge of the night table next to the bed. His eyes then dived to the two small white pills that sat next to the cup. He took another shuddering breath and grabbed the cup, looking to Harry before swallowing the small amount of liquid in one gulp. He quickly grabbed the two small pills and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them too, knowing full well that once he did, the effects of both medications would take over.

Sure enough, he felt extremely light headed and dizzy. His entire body went numb, and soon enough, he was practically paralyzed. He closed his eyes, knowing full well what would happen next.

And just like clockwork, just like he had planned, everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Louis woke up—not in a hospital bed, but in his own dream.<p>

He sat up, and the first thing he noticed was that he was sitting on a hard surface. He looked down and saw, just like many of the dreams before; he was sitting on the stage.

Except this stage wasn't surrounded by darkness—instead, he realized, he was in a theatre. The theatre had bronze and crimson curtains that lined the high walls, from the ceiling to the floor. The seats in the theatre were a bit larger than normal and from the height that Louis was at, he could see that they were decked out in bright red velvet. He smiled at the theatre, already feeling a sense of home as he looked out into it.

His smile somewhat faded as he looked down, noticing that hundreds of feet down from the stage was the orchestra pit. He groaned, knowing that his plan needed to go into action right away.

He would just have to find him first.

At first glance, the stage seemed relatively small; however, with every step Louis took, the stage seemed to get deeper and longer. This fact irritated Louis, as he knew the medication he took wouldn't last very long.

He continued to walk in all different sorts of directions, until suddenly, he heard a soft voice.

The voice seemed to be…humming.

Louis turned and followed the voice, and in a few moments, he realized the voice wasn't humming.

It was singing.

And Louis knew that voice could only belong to one person.

He walked towards the back of the stage, and behind the black curtain, right at the bottom, where it lifted about an inch from the floor, Louis saw a bit of light glowing. He smiled and walked towards the curtain, pulling it to the side so he could see who was behind it.

Sure enough, he grinned as he saw a glowing Harry holding a microphone in his hand, singing softly to himself,

"_Nothing's fine, I'm torn."_

Louis blinked at the sight before him, and realized now was the first time he had ever taken in Harry's dress attire. Currently, Harry was wearing red trousers, a dark navy blue blazer, and a white undershirt with white sneakers.

He looked incredibly simple, yet the glow that surrounded him made him absolutely stunning.

Louis shook himself out his trance and looked at Harry hard—he had a job to do, and he needed to do it quickly.

"Hazza!"

Harry looked up from his microphone and smiled at Louis, "Hi, Lou."

Louis nodded to him and stuffed his hands in his pockets, beckoning him, "Hey, let's take a walk, eh?"

"Where to?"

"Just…around. I need to talk to you." Louis finished, finally putting part one of his plan into action.

Harry looked back to the microphone and sighed, setting it back into its place on the microphone stand and following Louis out of the backstage area.

"Can you make this quick? Harry asked shyly, "I have a show." He responded to Louis' look of confusion by pointing to the theatre seats. Now, mere minutes after Louis had seen all of the seats empty, they were suddenly filling up by the second.

Louis took this as a sign—he didn't have much time.

"Look Harry," Louis began, trying to get to the point quickly, "I'm from a different world than you are. I…In my world, Harry, you…you have been dead for three months."

Louis looked to Harry to see what his reaction to his words was. However, Harry just nodded his head—as if he were taking it all in and waiting for him to continue.

"And, I've been a mess without you, Harry. So much so, that I dream about you every night. And in my dream, every night, you die—"

"I know." Harry interjected, looking down at the ground, "I know. I—I think I see you too. Well, I know I do. You're always here. I ask you to jump with me, and you never do." He said sadly.

Louis grinned unexpectedly, realizing that his suspicions were correct, "I know, and I'm sorry. But…there's a reason you can see me and I can see you. Remember, when I first saw you on the stage, you were surprised to see me?"

"Right," Harry said, his eyes lighting up at the memory, "Because I thought living people couldn't see the dead."

Louis nodded excitedly, "Exactly! See, Harry, the reason you can see me and I can see you in my dreams is because…well…you've been dreaming about me too."

"But…I thought I was dead in your world—"

Louis shook his head, "No, love. You're _not _dead. This entire time, you've been asleep—in a sort of coma. But you still dream. And you dream of me—of us."

Harry nodded slowly, letting out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He chuckled and shook his head,

"So does that mean I'm sleeping? And…right now…we are…in a dream?"

Louis hummed, "I believe so, yes."

"So this whole time…we've been at…different ends of our dreams? Of time?" Harry asked.

"Precisely." Louis agreed.

"Okay, if that's the case, whose dream is this? Yours or mine?"

Louis shrugged and looked down, before looking Harry in the eyes, "I think…I think it's _ours_."

Harry smiled faintly, "So instead of being at different ends…we are in the same space of time?" He couldn't help but smile at his next words, "Together?"

Louis nodded with a small grin and let out a sigh of relief, "Yes."

Harry smiled, but his look turned to one of suspicion, "But wait…how are you even here then? This isn't a fairy tale, how are we both in the same dream?"

Louis chuckled, finding the words he was about to say completely cliché, yet at the same time, he couldn't help but believe it, "Because I'm in love with you. And I…I think our souls—our beating hearts—are connected in some powerful, indescribable way." He paused. "I've…I've always known I loved you, Harry," Louis confessed shyly, "And I know now what it's like for you to be gone. And—and I want you back to I can be able to show you how much I love you. But I want to show you when you are alive. I want to tell you for real."

The younger boy smiled to himself and he found he couldn't stop his lips from turning upward. He looked to Louis as he spoke, "I love you too, Lou. More than anything in the world."

Louis grinned in response and took one of his hands, and Harry squeezed it. Harry looked down at their entwined hands and frowned, still noticing the brightness that surrounded his hand and his body,

"If I am still alive, then why am I still glowing? You are alive and you aren't glowing." Harry pointed out.

Louis sighed sadly, "That just means we don't have much time left."

Harry shot him a confused look and Louis continued, "I think the glowing means you…don't have much time left to live…in _my_ world."

Harry frowned, "Oh."

"Yes, but, I have an idea. You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." Harry said simply, without any hesitation.

"Okay, then follow me." Louis grabbed Harry's hand and guided him to the edge of the familiar stage. He looked down and gripped Harry's shoulders, looking him square in the eye,

"We are going to jump Harry, and we are going to do it together."

Contrary to what Louis thought, Harry gave him a worried look and stumbled away from the edge of the stage, "N—no, I don't want to jump!"

Louis shook his head and grabbed Harry's hands, "Look, I know it's scary—"

"Scary?" Harry exclaimed, "It's _more_ than scary, it's terrifying! I know I make it seem okay, but it's not Louis. I don't want to go again. I don't. And I don't want you to go either."

"Look at _me,_ Harry. Listen to me," He forced Harry to look into his eyes by letting his finger tilt Harry's head in his direction, "I know you're scared. _So am I_. But I know this will work. The reason you keep coming back and not dying in my dreams is because I never went with you. You always went alone. You need me. And I need you. If we both jump…I think…I think I can get you to wake up."

"I don't think—"

"Harry, when I was little, I used to dream of falling a lot. And when I would wake up screaming, my mum would come in and tell me what if I was ever falling in a dream, I would wake up before I ever reached the ground. Don't you see? We are in a dream! If we fall—"

"We'll wake up before we hit the ground?"

"Yes!"

Harry blinked and shook his head,

"But if that's true, how come I haven't woken up whenever I jump?" Harry asked, confused.

"_Because I never went with you._ If what I believe is correct…I think you need me to jump with you in order for you to wake up."

Harry gave him a half smile, "Why do you think that?"

"Because I am alive. I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night. You've just been _sleeping_. And also, because we are connected here," Louis said breathily, pointing to his heart, "I think we need to be together in order for you to wake up."

Harry exhaled and gripped Louis' hand again, looking down at it regretfully, "But what if—what if you're wrong?" Harry whispered, "What if we jump, and you don't wake up. What if _neither_ of us do?"

Louis hummed to himself and respired, squeezing Harry's hand as he gazed into his eyes sincerely, "Well, that's a risk I am more than willing to take for you."

Harry nodded quickly, noticing the brightness surrounding him was growing larger and larger. It was so large, that now it was almost taking over Harry. So much so, that Harry was starting to_ become_ the light.

"Lou, I think we need to do this now."

Louis nodded and dragged them both to the edge of the stage. They both simultaneously looked down to the orchestra pit, and then out to the audience. Louis studied them for a moment, wondering why they were all staring at them, in complete silence.

"They are waiting for me to go on," Harry said, as if he were reading Louis' mind, "I don't know if I want them to see this—"

"Oh why not?" Louis said, trying to make a joke out of it, "An audience always makes you more confident, isn't that what they say?" Louis asked.

Harry laughed out loud and shook his head, "Who would _ever _say that?"

"Dunno, just trying to lighten to mood!"

Harry chuckled, "Well it certainly worked for a moment," He looked down at the ground again, fear settling in again, "I can't believe I am going to do this," He muttered to himself, preparing himself for the worst. For what he knew would happen to him if Louis' plan didn't work.

Louis took a deep breath and gripped Harry's hand harder, noticing the glowing was only getting brighter and larger,

"Harry, are you ready?"

Harry nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing heavily, "Yes."

"Alright, on my count of three." Louis said, giving Harry a cautious look.

"Okay." Harry whispered, wincing.

"One…Two_…_" Louis announced.

"…_three_." Harry said, squeezing his eyes shut tighter in anticipation.

And together, clutching each other's hands, they jumped.

* * *

><p>Louis's eyes shot open as his body jerked, causing him to wake up.<p>

He took in his surroundings quickly; the uncomfortable mattress of the bed, the cold air that filled the room, the white walls that surrounded him.

Yes, he was in the hospital room, holding Harry's hand and lying next to him.

_Harry._

Louis sat up and turned to look at Harry, whose eyes were still closed. But his chest rising and falling rhythmically proved he was still breathing.

"Harry?" Louis whispered, letting his fingers caress his cheek.

"Harry, Harry wake up. _Please_ wake up."

Harry didn't move. He just kept breathing, and his chest continued to rise and fall in time with his breaths.

Louis' heart shattered, and he was convinced it was so loud the patients down the hall could have heard it.

So it didn't work. _His plan didn't work._

He couldn't take it anymore—the stress, the pain. He let his body collapse on top of Harry, and he started to cry.

"Harry, Harry, I am so, so sorry. I—I thought—I thought it would have worked—I—" Louis couldn't finish his words, for the sobs continued to roll out of his throat. He let his head fall to Harry's chest, and he clutched his gown, letting himself cry.

Suddenly, the rhythm of Harry's breathing changed slightly, and a sound other than Louis' sobs could be heard,

"Thought _what_ would have worked?"

The voice was barely above a whisper, but Louis could recognize it anywhere; it was a voice he had been longing to hear for the past three months, the voice that had haunted his dreams for the same amount of time.

Louis looked up at Harry, and saw that he was blinking, and his eyes were wide with confusion and excitement.

Louis continued to gaze at Harry until all of the sudden; the largest beam broke onto his face. And before long, Louis started laughing—it was as if he was going mad.

After all of the months of suffering and dealing with the fact that his best friend and the boy he loved was dead, he couldn't believe that same person was blinking his eyes _open_ and talking as if nothing had happened.

The younger boy smiled at Louis for the first time in three months, letting a small laugh escape from his throat.

"What…what are you on about?" Harry asked, and Louis couldn't describe the sensation he felt after he heard Harry speak.

Louis shook his head and smiled running his fingers through Harry's hair as he spoke,

"Nothing, Hazza," Louis laughed again, gripping Harry's hand and letting his thumb run smooth circles over his skin. Louis felt as though the weight that was holding his heart down was lifted, and he felt like he could breathe again. He felt like he was _finally living_ again,

"Nothing at all."


	10. Chapter Nine

"This is really _something else_."

Louis couldn't help but smile from his chair on the other side of the room. For the past few hours, doctors and nurses had been examining Harry, checking all of his vital signs and his brain activity—he passed every test with flying colors.

The doctor's even had Harry do the "what color are your socks" test. Needless to say, Harry was perfectly healthy.

"It really is something…magical, isn't it?" One doctor said, checking Harry's reflexes one more time.

Harry smiled and shrugged, looking at Louis and then back to the doctor, "I must have someone looking out for me."

"You're a very lucky boy, Mr. Styles."

"Yeah, I really am." He said, beaming at Louis, who returned the gesture.

"So everything is alright with him, then?" Simon Cowell asked, walking back into the room and pocketing his phone.

The doctor, who was dark in skin color and tall in height, smiled a bright grin and nodded, "It seems so. This is truly remarkable, Harry. You are very lucky. It seems like you have a guardian angel looking after you." The doctor continued to smile knowingly and Harry sighed, glancing from Louis and back to the doctor,

"Absolutely." He paused. "So does this mean I can go?"

The doctor opened his mouth to speak, but Simon immediately interjected, "I don't think so. You need your rest—"

"But I've been sleeping for three months!"

The doctor stepped in next to Simon, who was almost leaning over Harry's bed, "I'm sorry Harry, but I think he is right. Though you have been 'asleep' for the past three months, you're body still hasn't gotten used to functioning while you are awake. It will take time, but your body needs to recuperate from the stress it was under while you were in the coma."

Harry groaned and flopped onto his back on the bed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Just hole me up in here, why don't you!" He cried dramatically.

Simon smiled slightly and rolled his eyes, patting the younger boy on the head. He turned back to Louis,

"Alright, Lou, I think we should let Harry get some rest—"

"_No_!"

Both men turned to look at the bed and saw Harry with his arms crossed—looking extremely pissed.

"I beg your—"

"No. Simon. You already won't let me leave the bed, even though I'm perfectly fine. Don't take the one person I actually want to talk to away." Harry said sadly, his eyes pleading.

Simon sighed and looked to Louis, who shrugged in response, "Well, if he's up to it, Simon—"

"—_I am!_"

Louis smiled knowingly, "—Then I don't see why I shouldn't stay. Besides, someone should stay with him, right?"

Simon looked to the doctor, who nodded, "I mean, he can stay if he wants," He turned to Louis, "But if anything happens, even the slightest glitch, you need to contact me or any of the nurses immediately. Is that clear?"

Louis smiled, never breaking eye contact from Harry, "Crystal."

Simon gave a wary glance to the pair, but finally settled for leaving when the doctor began to close his clipboard,

"Right. Harry, you stay in bed. Louis, if he starts to get tired, don't force him to stay awake, yeah?"

Louis nodded towards the doctor, "Yes, alright, fine."

The doctor nodded and ushered an annoyed Simon out of the room, finally leaving the two boys alone.

Alone.

_Finally._

The two were silent for a few moments, just taking in the fact that they were together, and that they were both alive.

Harry chuckled and coughed, waving his hand, "Aren't you going to come over, then?"

Louis sighed, his chest feeling lighter at the sound of Harry's voice and the familiar banter he always produced. He pulled that he was sitting on over to the side of Harry's bed, making sure it faced him, and he sat down. Harry reached out his arm, holding his hand out, and Louis graciously took it easily.

"Hi." Harry breathed, finding it hard to stop his lips from turning upward.

"Hi." Louis said, squeezing his hand and rubbing circles over his palm.

"I can't believe I've been gone for_ that_ long."

Louis shook his head, "It was…terrible, Harry. Not just for me, but for the boys as well."

The grin that broke out on Harry's face was infectious as he spoke, "The boys. I miss them. How are they?"

Louis nodded, "They are alright. Niall's still eating, Liam's still sensible, and Zayn is…Zayn." Louis finished with a laugh.

Harry mimicked his laugh and exhaled, "I feel terrible—I feel like I've missed so much."

"Don't worry, we'll get you up to speed in no time."

Harry nodded, but his smile had faded into a mope, and Louis lifted Harry's chin with his finger, forcing him to look into his eyes,

"What's the matter?"

Harry shrugged, and let his fingers play with the thin sheet that was covering him, "Nothing, I just—I feel awful that I've missed things with you and the boys, but I feel even worse for putting you through what I did." Harry lifted his head to shoot Louis a regretful look.

Louis shook his head, his other hand reaching to pat Harry on the leg comfortingly, "No, no don't feel bad. You couldn't help it—"

"—But I could have, couldn't I?" Harry began, "I didn't have to leave _that_ night. I didn't have to get in your car. I could have stayed like you asked me to."

Louis groaned inwardly. He wanted to talk to Harry about everything, but at the same time, he didn't want to have any type of conversation about _that _night.

Louis rubbed the back of his neck, "I—I guess so. But I mean, we were both kinda upset that night. I—I should have chased after you and forced you to come back inside. I—" He paused, "I feel like it's partly my fault this even happened to you. I let you go, Harry. I could have stopped you." He gave Harry a sincere stare, and added, "And I am never letting you leave again."

The younger boy looked at him in shock. Of course, he didn't remember much from his dream, and to be honest, he didn't remember much from that night either.

But what he did remember was how he felt that night—how he couldn't stand the thought of Harry leaving him again for Eleanor.

He shuddered—even thinking about it now made his stomach turn upside down. Harry glanced up at Louis, who was still grinning from ear to ear—so unbelievably happy that Harry was here, sitting up and talking to him.

The curly haired boy grinned. The fact that Louis was here, and that he probably broke a million rules for what he did, and that he even tried in the first place, was enough for Harry right now.

Harry took a deep breath, "How about…it's no one's fault? And we don't play the blame game?It happened, and…and I'm just happy that I'm able to sit here and talk to you." Harry said, placing a kiss on Louis' hand that was cupping his cheek,

"Besides," Harry continued, his lips moving against Louis' hand,"I have a feeling there is a different reason I should be mad at you right now." He said with a quaint smile.

Louis couldn't help but smile back, knowing exactly what he was talking about, "Do—do you remember anything from the dream?"

Harry shrugged, "Just that you forced me to plummet to the ground by jumping off of a stage." He said jokingly.

Louis laughed, "Yes. That—that is what I did."

"And I'm…so glad you did." Harry said, "All joking aside, if it weren't for you trying, I wouldn't be here right now. So, just…thank you so much Louis. You…you saved me." He finished, his voice breaking.

Harry gave him a watery smile at his own words, his beam lighting up Louis' dark world that he had been living in for the past three months. Louis continued to caress Harry's thumb as Harry looked around the room. His wide eyes turned to look at Louis again, his voice still an audible whisper,

"So this is real, right? This isn't a dream?" Harry asked with a look of skepticism on his face.

Louis grasped Harry's face lightly, letting his thumbs brush against his cheeks. He forced Harry to look at him—he wanted to make sure Harry heard this. Partly because he wanted Harry to be sure and partly because he was still trying to convince himself that all of this was true, even though he knew it was.

"This is completely real," Louis confirmed, wiping away a small tear that had fallen down his face.

"Everything is real." He smiled and wiped a tear away from Harry's eye and whispered, "You are real."

Louis looked into Harry's eyes and smiled at him comfortingly. He loved being able to say those words out loud, and not have to convince himself they were true, because he was holding Harry right now, and he _knew _he wasn't dreaming.

There was so much he wanted to say to Harry—but he felt like not even forever would be enough time to tell him what he was feeling.

He gripped Harry's hand, which gained the younger boys attention,

"Louis?"

Louis shook his head in response, "It's nothing Harry."

"No, tell me, what's on your mind." He paused and chuckled, "I think I deserve to know, don't you think? I've only been gone for three months. You can't keep anything from me now."

Louis took a deep breath, taking note that Harry did have a point.

"Well, Harry, I—"

The boys both jumped at the sudden whoosh of the door opening. Both boys turned to look at the door, and they were both greeted with a warm smile,

"Harry!" Harry's eyes grew wide as he crashed into a hug by none other than his mother, Anne Styles.

"Oh, my baby boy. I—I—you're awake, you're here! Oh, sweetheart!" Anne cupped her son's face and kissed his cheeks, letting her tears of joy splash across his face.

"Oh, stop it! Goodness! Yes, yes, I'm here! I'm alright!"

"Alright?" Anne exclaimed, still not noticing Louis was smiling at the pair, "Harry, you were just in a coma for three months. You weren't talking or smiling or singing—you were just lying there." Anne let her tears fall from her eyes freely, not caring if there were other people in the room.

Her son—her only son—was alive; when everyone else thought he wasn't going to wake up.

She was a firm believer that no mother should ever have to hold a funeral for her child—so her fears washed away completely when she saw her son's eyes light up with his smile.

He was alive. Her son—her world, her everything—was _alive._

Harry, who saw his mother crying, sat up and opened his arms, "Oh mum, come on, it's alright. I'm okay now, I'm okay—"

Anne continued to sob into her sons shoulders when suddenly; the door again burst open—

"Harry Styles?"

All three people in the room turned to face the door, and Anne sighed when another doctor strutted through the door,

"Yes, this is Harry, he's my son—"

"Yes, I am well aware," The attractive doctor gave Anne a charming smile and continued, diverting his eyes from Anne to Harry, "Hello Harry, how are you feeling so far?"

Harry sighed, "Just as fine as I was about an hour ago when the _other_ doctor came in." Anne understood Harry's frustration and turned back to the doctor,

"He's had a long day, can't you do this another time?"

"Unfortunately, when a coma patient comes out of a coma, they need to be monitored very frequently. We just want to make sure he is stable and there were no complications. I assure you," He turned to Harry again, "This won't continue for very long."

"I hope not," Harry asserted, "I want to get out of here. I need to go back to the boys," He shot a knowing look at Louis, who shrugged,

"Yes, but I want you to get better too." Louis gave Harry a soft look and stood up, moving the doctor out of the way and standing next to Harry.

He reached for Harry's hand and grabbed his, rubbing small circles onto his palm. He looked into Harry's eyes and at first Harry gave him a hard stare, but once their eyes locked; his looked softened. To the onlookers, it seemed like Harry and Louis were in their own little world—as if they were having a silent conversation of understanding.

Because while he knew Harry was fidgety and wanted to leave, he also understood that he needed to get better before he did anything extreme.

He loved Harry, and he wanted to be with him—alone—but he would rather be with a healthy Harry than a Harry who ran the risk of slipping into a coma again.

Harry nodded and looked down at their entwined hands and smiled, "I know—I do. But you know how I can hardly sit still—"

"—I know." Louis said with a smile.

"—And how I need to start doing things with you guys again."

"—_I know_."

"—I don't want to stay here!"

Louis nodded and ran his hand through Harry's soft curls, earning an appreciative smile from the boy.

"I know, but please, listen to the doctors. I know you don't want to but…please?" He shrugged, "For me?"

Harry grinned cheekily, and Louis heard his heart thump in his chest at the familiar sight, welcoming the fast pacing of his heart with open arms—because he knew it was because he seeing Harry smile at him for real, and_ not_ in a dream. "You know I'd do anything for you, Lou." He kissed Louis' hand, and Louis grinned. Both were still completely in their own world when they heard a throat being cleared from behind them,

"Right," the doctor said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he came in between Harry and Louis, "Well Harry, I'll be back to run a few more tests, but right now," He turned to face Anne, who was wide eyed as she watched the exchange between the two boys, "Anne, I need you to come with me—"

Anne, who was still amazed by the scene she had just witnessed. Moved her hand from where it was placed on her heart and looked at the doctor,

"What? Why? I—I don't want to leave my son—"

The doctor laughed and placed a light hand on her shoulder, "It's nothing to worry about, love. You just need to fill out some forms. Besides," He shot Louis a knowing look, "I think there are a few other people who wish to see Harry."

Just as he said those words, the door bust open, and the smiling faces of three other boys burst into the room,

"Harry!"

"_Oh my god_—"

"Hazza!"

Harry's slight scowl turned to a grin when he was suddenly attacked by Niall, Zayn and Liam, who jumped onto the bed and hugged him and kissed his head and face. Harry couldn't help but laugh at their antics and the doctor nodded to Louis before guiding Anne out of the room and closing the door lightly behind them.

Louis stared at what was happening before him—they were all together again. His best friends in the entire world were all here in the same room. And they were all alive.

The sight he never thought he would see again was playing out before his eyes. The smiles on the boys' faces could light up an entire city—happiness and joy was radiating from each boy and Louis could feel it throughout every inch of his body. He walked over to the bed and embraced his friends in a giant group hug, not surprised by the tear that fell down his cheek.

The pieces of Louis that were missing were finally being put back together—he felt whole again.


	11. Chapter Ten

Only a few days had gone by since Harry had woken up from his coma, and he was already easily falling back into the swing of things—as if he had never even been gone.

Niall was already telling him all about the new specials at Nandos that he had missed—and he reassured Harry countless times that he would, "make sure you don't miss out ever again." Harry always felt a sense of adoration when it came to Niall. Niall was always the jokester of the group, but he was also incredibly insecure, but the fact that he tried to make everyone else happy before himself always warmed Harry's heart.

Zayn, always the fashionista, was already discussing with Harry possible outfit swaps ("Well can I borrow that blazer? I'll trade you my pair of Jordan's for your Toms…").

Zayn also discussed with Harry some new harmonies he had been working on for the pair of them for their new album. Although Harry's voice was very weak, he was able to sing along with him. Sure, his throat hurt a bit afterwards, but it was then that Harry realized how much he loved singing, and how much he missed it without even really knowing it.

If anyone had made it seem like nothing had ever happened, it was Liam. Harry loved Liam like a brother, but sometimes he wanted to punch him as if he really were one. On top of making it painfully obvious that nothing was going to change, he was also as overbearing, if not more so, than his own damn mother!

At first, Harry didn't mind the excessive fluffing of his pillows, or the constant questions of, "Are you okay?" and "Do you need anything else?" and "Are you sure?".

But it had been four days, and Harry was tired of being babied.

"Harry, do you need anything—"

"No, Liam."

"Are you sure?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, "_Yes_, I am positive." He snapped with an exasperated sigh.

Louis frowned and shot him a concerned glance, "What's the matter?"

Harry groaned, leaning back into his newly fluffed pillow, "I love you, Liam. But I am not a child—you don't need to keep treating me like I'm—"

"—Like you are what, Harry?" Liam snapped, surprising Harry with his annoyed tone. "Like you are sick? Like you've just been in a coma for three months? Sorry for treating you like something you _are_, Haz!"

Harry stuttered, "I'm not that sick, anymore, Liam."

Liam threw up his hands in slight frustration, letting them both drag down his face, "It's not that you aren't sick now, Harry. I'm trying to prevent you from getting sick again—"

"I won't get sick—"

Liam took a deep breath and exhaled, "I don't think you understand how bad it's been since you've been gone, Harry."

Harry cocked his head to the side, utterly confused. "W—what do you mean?"

Liam half laughed, half scoffed and he took a seat at the edge of Harry's bed, letting his hand rest on Harry's arm,

"The reason I'm so protective of you is because I don't want you to end up back in the hospital in a coma again. I want you to be healthy. The past three months have been dreadful. Niall got into binge eating, Zayn didn't talk to _anyone_, and Louis—"

At his name Liam stopped abruptly and looked down, shaking his head. Harry, who was startled by the quick pause in the conversation, bent his head to try to catch eye contact with Liam,

"Liam? What is it?"

Liam sighed and looked up from the spot he was staring at on the bed sheets and wiped a small tear from his eyes as he did so. Harry's look of annoyance turned into one of sympathy,

"Liam, what's wrong?"

As if he had never stopped midsentence, Liam continued, "Louis took it the hardest, Harry. I tried to keep his spirits up; I tried to get him to move on. But I couldn't. No one could. He wouldn't show up to rehearsals, he wouldn't be as enthusiastic as he was when you were around. He was…hallow. He was empty. It was so hard to watch, Harry. You gotta understand—and you know how Louis is! He's always so happy, so carefree. But when you were gone…he was a completely different person."

"So I guess the real reason I am so nurturing towards you, is so that way, I know you will be healthy, and if you are healthy, Louis will be happy. And then you two can be happy—"

"_Us two_?" Harry asked, the pit of his stomach flipping over. Trying to play stupid was hard when you knew exactly what was going on.

For the first time, Liam smiled and he gave Harry a knowing stare, "Oh come on, Harry. Don't play dumb."

_Damn it._

"What are you talking about?" Harry said, still trying to keep up his act. To be honest, he really didn't know why he was pretending in the first place—he knew how he felt, and he was almost sure he knew how Louis felt. But knowing those feelings and actually acting on them were two completely different things.

Liam's eyes glistened as he spoke, "I can't speak for everyone, Harry. But I know. I know you and Louis are…_obviously_ more than best friends." The smile that broke from his lips was evident, and also infectious. So much so that Harry too began to smile.

"I mean, we aren't anything right now...we just…I mean, I just—"

"You just _what_, Harry?" Liam asked.

Harry looked down at his hands and played with the top of his bed sheets, twisting the cheap material around his fingers, "I don't know what to say." Harry finally finished, letting out a light laugh.

Liam nodded, "If you're worried about getting our approval—you know you have it. We just want you and Louis to be happy. If it's with each other, or with other people, or boys, or girls, or both," He smiled, "It doesn't matter to us who it's with, as long as you are happy… so are we."

Harry let out a breath of relief and shrugged. He knew in the back of his mind that his band mates would be fine with the fact that he was bi sexual, and that he loved Louis very much. But hearing the words out loud comforted him. They were concrete, and he was very thankful that his best friends so understood.

"I know that, I just…I haven't had a moment to talk to Louis alone about it."

Liam laughed, "And we probably aren't helping you much with that, are we? Us all being here all of the time? Never giving you a moment alone?" He gave Harry an apologetic look, "Sorry mate."

"Well, I can't blame you." Harry said with an understanding tone. "And I do want you guys here, but I know I've been dying to talk to Louis alone." Harry said the last few words almost as an afterthought. It was true, he had wanted to talk to Louis, but with everything that had been going on, they never got the chance too.

And Harry knew he would be able to in due time, but he just hated waiting. Harry was impatient, and when he wanted something, he had to have it.

Liam stood up from the bed and ruffled Harry's hair, "Alright then. Well, I think my time with you is up—"

"What?" Harry asked, coming out of his daze.

"—Yeah. I, uh…need to go. To get food. Yes. I need to go get food…with Niall—"

"Liam..." Harry said warily.

"Well I must be off," Liam smiled and grabbed his jacket off of a sitting chair, "I think the next person to come is Louis. So I guess that means Zayn, Niall and I will be getting food. Far. Away. From. Here."

Harry shook his head, "Liam, you don't have to do this."

The singer shrugged in response, "I know, but I want to." He opened the door and walked out, shouting before swinging it shut behind him, "See you later!"

As the door shut behind Liam, Harry took a shuddering breath, letting his head lean back against his pillow. He allowed himself to smile, and his eyes began to droop closed as he thought of Louis, and how they were finally going to be alone.

_Finally._

* * *

><p>Louis briskly walked from the entrance of the hospital and down the hallway to the familiar room. From what he understood from Liam's frantic phone call, he and Harry were finally going to be alone. To talk everything out.<p>

Louis thought it was a bit silly, to have this plan to get him and Harry alone. But at the same time, he thought it was almost necessary: he had only gotten released from the hospital four days ago, and since then, Harry always had two or more people surrounding him, making sure he was okay.

And Louis couldn't blame everyone for being so protective—heck, he was protective—but he had been wishing for a time when the two could finally be alone and now he had it.

He sighed.

He just had to make sure everything went perfectly.

He slowed his brisk strut to a slow walk as he approached the door, taking a deep breath as he turned to doorknob.

The open door revealed the same, mundane hospital room, only with hundreds of letters and postcards from fans, as well as a dozen bouquets of flowers and get well cards.

Louis' eyes darted from the gifts to the bed, and breathed as he saw Harry in a very deep slumber.

He carefully walked to the edge of the bed, sitting on it and letting his hand rub up and down the younger boy's arm.

After a few moments, Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he grunted as his orbs landed on Louis,

"Hi." He said sleepily.

"Hello. I'm sorry to have woken you."

"Don't you think, given the circumstances, I should be _thanking_ you for that?"

"Good point."

Harry held out his hand to Louis, who graciously took his hand and squeezed it. Harry smiled down at their entwined fingers,

"I'm so glad I can do this with you now instead of just in a dream. I love that it's real."

Louis chuckled and took a seat at the bed, never letting go of Harry's hand. He stared at their hands, then back at Harry. His heart began thumping in his chest wildly; he knew Harry was right, and that everything was real. That everything he felt was real.

But he was still afraid.

Because what if what Harry had felt in his dream were just feelings that were to remain…_in_ his dreams? He knew he couldn't blame Harry if that were the case, because it had happened to him before.

Many times Louis would dream of wanting something, or someone. And in his dream, it would be his greatest desire, but when he woke up, that thing or person he so desperately wanted didn't appeal to him anymore.

He was afraid that was going to be the case with Harry. The Harry wouldn't want _him_ anymore.

And that terrified him.

However, he knew the only way to know how Harry truly felt was by doing something he wouldn't expect. If Louis were to ask Harry how he felt, he had a feeling Harry would lie to make Louis feel better, regardless if it made him happy or not. Because that was the type of person Harry was.

So Louis had to come up with something else—another way to get the truth out of Harry.

And in the end…he only came to one solution.

"Harry," He began slowly, letting his thumb run over Harry's knuckles.

"Hmm?"

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Louis, what are you—"

Harry was cut off mid sentence by Louis' lips placed softly on his own. At first, he was frozen, because he really didn't know what to do. It wasn't that he hadn't kissed anyone before (because trust, he had) but this was different. This kiss was different.

Louis' hand gently went from gripping Harry's hand to sliding over the younger boys back, and suddenly, Harry felt incredibly comfortable with Louis kissing him. At the same time, the kiss was so soft, yet so meaningful, that Harry was having a hard time breathing. He was also getting incredibly dizzy, and suddenly, the heart monitor that stood next to Harry's bed began to beep rapidly.

Louis pulled back immediately, his hands cradling Harry's face, and his eyes searching him wildly, "Haz, are you alright? What's wrong? What can I do?"

Harry put a hand on his chest, and then one to his forehead. And he shook his head,

"No, no I'm fine Lou. I'm fine…that's just what you do to me."

"So you're saying I'm giving you a heart attack?" He asked shaking his head, "Brilliant." He muttered.

Harry took his hand, "No, no. I'm not saying that. I'm saying…well…don't you know when you get happy, your heart beats fast? Or when you see someone you…you—ah to hell with it—when you see someone _you love_, your heart beats faster?"

Louis stared at him, shell shocked, and without blinking. He let out a shaky breath, "You—you _love_?"

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled, "Yes, you dim witted boy. I—I love you. Didn't you already know that? I told you in the—the dream. I meant every word I said. In _every _dream."

Louis couldn't help but shake his head and give Harry a small smile, and a look that showed his complete adoration for him. He no longer felt afraid, because his plan had surprisingly worked.

"I love you too, Harry. More than I can really put into words."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, "Well, good, because if not, my profession would have made me look incredibly stupid."

"You couldn't look stupid if you tried," Louis replied easily, letting his hand play with Harry's hair.

"Oh shut it and kiss me already."

"I would, but I don't want you to go into cardiac arrest."

Harry shrugged, "I'll take my chances." He wound his arms around Louis neck and pulled him in for another searing kiss.

Harry didn't know the correct word to use when it came to describing what it was like to kiss Louis, because it was indescribable. It might possibly be the easiest thing he had ever done, because it felt so right to him. Everything did. Louis, the dreams—it was almost as if everything that happened to them was _supposed_ to happen.

Louis pulled away from Harry and he let his forehead rest on Harry's, both trying to catch their breaths.

"So," Louis began, nodding to the heart monitor, "How's your heart?"

"Never better." Harry replied with a toothy grin.

Louis sighed, "You think this is something you can get used to?"

"What? The crazy beeping from the monitor or…_us_?"

Louis gave him a knowing look, "Us."

Harry shook his head and grinned, leaning up and kissing Louis again, deepening the kiss and pulling Louis closer to him again. Louis easily gave him, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue into Harry's, a moan escaping his throat.

Oh yes, this was something Harry could _definitely_ get used to.


	12. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: _You guys, this is it; the final installment to _A Different Ends_. It's been a long journey, and I'm so glad you were joined in for the ride! I'd like to thank each and every one of you, again, for sticking with this story and leaving me nice reviews and talking to me and following me and supporting me. I really didn't think this would go anywhere. And I'm surprised I even finished it. If it weren't for your continued support, I probably never would have finished it! So, I just wanted to thank you again, and tell you that I love you all so so much.

And no, without further adieu, here is the Epilogue of _At Different Ends_.

Enjoy

~Raven x

* * *

><p>Louis felt a soft hand on his lower back, and he turned his head slightly, his peripherals catching sight of the person behind him.<p>

"Hi."

"Hello," Smiled Harry, who now stood next to him; the hand on his back never moving, "Are you ready for this?"

Louis looked straight ahead at the set of the Xtra Factor, watching as Caroline and Olly talked to the latest contestants on the show.

Louis felt nervous butterflies creep up in his stomach, but he had to shoo them away. He hadto do this. No, he _wanted_ to.

"I think I am." He held out his hand and Harry graciously took it, grinning from ear to ear.

"Do you think it will be awkward?"

"What do you mean?"

"With Caroline." Harry shrugged, "You know, with all of those rumors buzzing about for a while after I got out of the hospital…"

Louis laughed, remembering the Sugarscape articles, not to mention the thousands of others claiming Harry had been romantically involved with Caroline Flack.

What. A. _Joke._

"Well, you know me," He flashed Harry a grin, "I'll make it as awkward as possible!" He laughed and Harry smacked the side of his arm,

"I'm serious! This—what we are about to do—is..is…"

"Completely mental?" Louis finished.

"Yes!"

"But it's completely worth it, right?"

Harry nodded instantly, not missing a beat, "Absolutely." The two boys exchanged quick glances before Olly gave them their cue.

"And now, what you've all been waiting for—Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are here in the studio. And…and here they are now!"

The boys squeezed each other's hands and let go as they walked onto the set, taking their respective seats on the couch.

"So boys," Caroline began, crossing her legs and leaning towards the boys, "I'm going to get straight to it, there is a reason you are both here."

"Yes." Harry said and Louis nodded his head.

"So, go on then!" Caroline grinned.

"What is it?" Olly asked, smiling at the camera.

Louis and Harry exchanged knowing glances, and Louis spoke,

"Well, I'd just like to say, that not only am I sitting next to Harry Styles, my best friend and band mate…but also…"

Caroline and Olly gave each other confused glances and turned back to Harry, who had respectively put his hand on Louis' knee,

"…but also," Louis continued, his smile coming easily to him as he looked up at Harry, "I'm sitting next to my fiancée."

* * *

><p>Liam pushed past Zayn, walking briskly up to Louis as he fixed his tie in the mirror,<p>

"Here, let me—" Louis grinned in appreciation and let his hands fall, letting Liam finish tying his tie.

"Can you believe it, Liam? That this is all happening?" Liam pulled Louis' tie up to his neck and he brushed off his shoulders,

"To be honest, I _absolutely_ can." Louis shook his head and playfully pushed Liam off of him. Niall then rounded the corner and almost bumped into them, holding a camera in one hand and a pinned flower in the other.

"Come on, Lou, Harry's waiting for you." He smiled and patted Louis' black jacket, pinning the flower to his left breast, "You look good, boy."

"Thanks," Louis paused, "How's Harry doing?"

"How do you _think_?" Niall gave him a knowing look.

"Nervous as hell?"

"And then some. That's why you need to hurry—so you two can get married already and we can all have a drink!"

The four boys in the room exchanged laughs and Niall grabbed Zayn's arm, "Alright, you need to come with me. We are Harry's best men, you know. We need to make sure he doesn't faint at the altar!"

Zayn nodded, "Right." He looked to Louis and kissed his cheek, "Alright Lou?"

"Alright, Z." Louis smiled and hugged his best friend, who squeezed him.

"Okay. We're off. See you at the end of the aisle. Try _not_ to screw up your vows!"

"Zayn!" Liam exclaimed, "Don't make him edgy!"

Zayn just laughed and followed Niall out of the room, leaving Louis with Liam.

Liam clapped his hands and turned to his friend, placing an eager hand on his shoulder, "You ready to go, Louis?"

"I've never been more ready for anything." Louis said confidently.

"Then let's get to it!" Liam smiled and guided his friend out of the room toward the church, where a small amount of people were sitting, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

"You're not nervous, are you?" Liam whispered as they walked to the side entrance of the church.

"A bit. But I think it's out of excitement. Ya know?" Liam nodded and held out his arms as they reached the door, and Louis walked into his embrace,

"Yeah, I do." Liam said. "Alright mate," He said as he pulled away, giving Louis a stern and serious look, "You're about to enter a lifelong commitment, Louis. This is the real deal; are you _sure_—"

Louis rolled his eyes and shoved his friend, knowing where his friend was about to take the conversation, "Liam, just _shut up_ and open the door!"

The lighter haired boy shook his head, "I don't even know why I bothered," He muttered to himself, knowing there was no point in asking Louis if he was sure he wanted to get married. But hey, a best man was a best man, and he _had_ to make sure.

Louis stepped into the church, following the short path from the side of the church to the altar. Liam took his place next to Louis, and Louis was finally met face to face with Harry.

Harry, of course, looked stunning. He didn't have the face he had ten years ago when they first met, but his dimples were still there, and everything Louis loves about Harry had remained the same.

Harry held out both of his hands and Louis took them, rubbing his thumb over Harry's knuckles.

"Hi." Harry said breathily.

Louis smiled, feeling a sudden wave of relief wash over him, "Hey."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Louis whispered, knowing that saying those three words to Harry would never get old.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, <em>I don't know if I can do this, Louis<em>!"

Louis gave Harry an exasperated look, his eyes wide with fear as doctors ran over to the woman laying on the hospital bed, crying out in pain.

"Okay, Cecilia, is it? Right, well, your water just broke—"

"No _shit _it just broke! I feel like this baby is going to kill me! Just get her _out_!" The woman named Cecilia cried painfully, reaching out for Louis' hand. Louis took it, shooting a sympathetic glance to Cecilia and turning back to Harry, who was heading for the door,

"Harry, don't you dare leave me alone—!"

"Louis, you know I don't do well with blood, or hospitals—!" Harry defended, looking from Cecilia to the doctor and then back to Louis.

"I don't _care_ about your tolerance for blood right now—you will _stay here_ and take hold of Cecilia's hand until that little girl is out!"

"But—"

"But_ nothing_! Do you really want to miss _this_—!"

Cecilia gave out a loud cry, and the doctor pulled on a rubber glove, the material making a snapping sound as it came into contact with his skin,

"We gotta move fast. Okay, Cecilia. I'm gunna need you to push—"

"Oh _god_—" Harry muttered as he eyed Cecilia up and down.

"Hey!" Louis said, getting Harry's attention, "Don't look…_down there_. Just look at me, okay? Just look at me." He gave Harry a pleading look and he sighed, gripping onto Cecilia's hand and looked at Louis.

"You okay, Haz?" Louis said, finally giving in and taking his husband's pale face into concern.

"Yes, yes I'm alright," He half smiled at Louis, "You're right, I really don't want to miss this."

Louis held out his hand and Harry took it, watching as Louis kissed his hand and released it, "It will be worth it, babe—"

"Alright Cecilia," The doctor called, interrupting Louis, "When I say push, you have to—"

" HOLY HELL THIS THING IS A DEMON. I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR PUTTING ME THROUGH THIS, HARRY!"

"But you agreed-!" Harry exclaimed.

"SHUT UP HARRY. I'M GOING TO _KILL_ YOU WHEN THIS IS OVER!"

"But…but…"

"Don't listen to her," Louis whispered, "This is how women get when they go into labor—"

"DON'T GET ME STARTED WITH YOU, LOU—AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"One more push, Cecilia! She's crowning!" The doctor said.

"Okay, Cece," Louis said, squeezing her hand, "One more push, okay? Ready, One…two…"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

And suddenly, with that last push, all of the tension and hatred that filled the room was alleviated. For in the doctor's arms was a beautiful baby girl.

Louis and Harry exchanged teary eyed glances, and they reached for each other's hands again. Harry's once worried face had completely changed to one of pure joy, and grinned from ear to ear as he looked into the baby girl's green eyes that were identical to his,

"Wow." Harry breathed, "That's…that's…"

Louis nodded and kissed his husband softly, "That's our daughter."

* * *

><p>Baby clothes were strewn all over the Tomlinson-Styles home, as well as toys and diapers and other things of the like.<p>

Louis and Harry could be seen sitting comfortably on their couch; With Louis reading a magazine with his feet propped up on the coffee table and Harry bouncing their two year old daughter on his lap,

"Ooh, Cecilia," Harry cooed to the little girl, who smiled in return and shaking the toy doll in her hand, "What do you have there?"

Louis shook his head but smiled, his eyes never leaving the page he was reading, "She can hardly say 'Papa', sweetheart," He said, reaching over to grab hold of Harry's knee, "I doubt she'll be able to say, 'My pretty princess Barbie.'"

Harry rolled his eyes and sat Cecilia on his lap, "Louis, she's going to be three soon and she still hasn't said a word!"

Louis put his magazine on his lap and took his reading glasses off to be met with a look of utter concern from Harry. Louis sighed but smiled gratefully at his daughter as he ran his hand lovingly over her head,

"I know, love. But she will. Sometimes it takes longer for one baby to speak than it does for others. At least," he waved the magazine around, "That's what this magazine has been telling me."

Harry frowned, "Well I think a good way to get her to start talking would be to ask her questions!"

"But we shouldn't force it—"

"Well someone's got to! I'm worried about her!"

Louis reached out to touch Harry's face, and Harry leaned into his touch, closing his eyes,

"I know you're worried, but you just have to give it time," He smiled, "She'll be saying Papa or Daddy soon—"

"_Papa?"_

Harry opened his eyes and both him and Louis looked down at Cecilia, who was holding her doll up to Harry,

"Cecilia…did you—"

"Papa?"

Louis and Harry shared amazed glances and smiled at one another. Harry kissed Louis quickly on the mouth before standing up along with Louis and twirling his daughter in the air,

"You said my name Cece! You said my name!"

"Papa!"

Harry laughed and Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed Cecilia's head,

"Papa!"

"Oh my god, she said it again!" Harry grinned and kissed Louis' cheek.

"Papa!"

"_Papa!_

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>PAPA!"<strong>_

Louis Tomlinson rolled over on his other side, covering his head with the pillow to drown out the irritating screeching that was coming from the other end of the bed.

"Papa! Wake up! It's morning!"

"Cecilia, go back to bed." Louis heard Harry groan as he snuggled closer to him. Louis smiled into the pillow at Harry's touch, and grabbed his hand as his arm snaked around his torso.

"Ugh. _Daddy_! Wake up!" Cecilia cried, now on Louis' side of the bed, shaking him to get him awake.

Louis sighed and opened one eye, only to be met with the smiling face of his daughter,

"Daddy! You're awake!"

"I'm afraid so." Louis said sleepily, which earned a chuckle from Harry, who was still buried under the covers.

Cecilia laughed and opened her arms, and Louis naturally picked up his 5 year old daughter, propping her on his hip and kissing her hair,

"And why, Cecilia, are you waking us up at such an hour?"

Cecilia giggled again and buried her face in Louis' chest—something she always did when she was excited, "Daddy, did you forget!"

"Forget? Forget what?" Louis asked, sincerely surprised.

"It's Christmas, silly! I wanna open presents!"

At this, Louis' eyes grew wide, and he mentally slapped himself on the forehead. He heard Harry sit up straight as fast as a bullet. He gave Louis a scared look,

"Oh, uh, Cece, sweetheart, why don't you go to your room and get dressed, hmm?" He kept eying Louis warily, and Louis' glances kept shooting from his daughter, to Harry, to the closet, where naturally, all of Cecilia's unwrapped presents were kept.

"But Papa! I want to go open my presents from Santa!"

"And you will, love," Harry said effortlessly, always finding it easier to tell little white lies to his daughter than Louis did, "But you need to get dressed first and shower and what have you."

Cecilia frowned and Louis set her down, shaking his head jokingly as he watched Cecilia trot to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her so she could get dressed. As soon as she was out of sight, Louis turned to the bed, only to find Harry shuffling through their closet on the other side of their room,

"You still got the presents?" Louis asked hastily as he walked over to him.

"_Of course_ I do, I just haven't got around to wrapping them!" Harry said, rubbing his hands over his hair in frustration.

"_Neither_ of us have—our schedules were hectic this year; I didn't even notice the date!"

"No time to guilt trip ourselves now; we have to get these wrapped!" Harry muttered, digging deeper into the closet for wrapping paper and tape. Louis nodded in agreement and began to help Harry with the wrapping.

It wasn't until thirty five minutes later that the presents were wrapped and taped (it would have taken a shorter amount of time if Cecilia hadn't threatened to come out of her room every five minutes) and Harry and Louis stood above the presents, admiring their work.

"We make a good team, don't we?" Harry asked as Louis wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

Louis looked down at Harry; the boy he had been in love with for more than fifteen years, and who would continue to love him the same amount until his dying breath. Harry, the boy who Louis thought was dead for three of the most painful months of his life, was alive. And they were married. And they had a child. And they were _together_. As a team.

Harry looked up at Louis and smiled knowingly, "What are you thinking about?" He whispered, pulling Louis closer to him.

Louis shook his head and kissed the top of his head, "About everything."

Harry grimaced slightly, knowing exactly what he was talking about, "You mean…"

"Yup." Louis finished with a laugh.

"That was a hard time, wasn't it?"

Louis nodded, "Yes, it was. But, I mean, look on the bright side—"

"Hmm?"

"If that didn't happen, I wouldn't have Cecilia." He paused, "Or you."

Harry smiled, "I feel the same." The two men shared a kiss; it was natural and quick, but it meant more to them than the eye could see,

"Love you." Louis muttered.

"Love you, too." Harry grinned and pulled away, and suddenly a sharp voice rang out

"PAPA! DADDY! I've been in here for a loooong time! When can I come out!" Harry's eyes grew wide and he started grabbing as many presents as his hands could carry, rushing over to the steps and calling out to Lou,

"You take care of her; I'll only be a few more minutes!"

"Okay!"

Louis began to walk to Cecilia's room when he heard a rumble and a loud crash coming from the first floor,

"Harry?"

"_I'm fine_!" Harry called out, and Louis heard his feet rush to the living room, where their Christmas tree was.

Louis chuckled and shook his head as he knocked on his daughter's door. Yes, life with Harry Styles was certainly never boring.

Cecilia opened the door and jumped into her father's arms, and the two of them trotted down the stairs to find Harry with his arms open in front of the presents, with a huge smile on his face.

"Look what Santa brought you, Cecilia!"

The little girl squealed in delight and rushed to the presents, and Harry and Louis gravitated towards each other, and their arms naturally fell over each other. A sense of calm washed over the both of them, and Louis hugged his husband closer to him.

Sometimes, Louis thought his life was like a dream—like everything that happened to him was almost too good to be true.

Louis looked down at Harry, who was smiling as his daughter ripped the newly wrapped presents to shreds.

Yes, sometimes Louis felt he was in a dream. But one look at Harry brought him back to reality.

Because life with Harry was, and _always_ would, be so very real.

* * *

><p><strong>FIN.<strong>


End file.
